


A Game You Can't Win

by NightFoliage



Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bruce is not a detective but investigates people, Clark romances the BatmanNPC who may or may not be Bruce, Gamer!Clark, Identity Porn, M/M, Millionaire!Bruce, Romance, Slow Build, cameos from characters from the movies, cameos from the batfam, cameos from the legion of superheroes, get-together, relatively canon compliant backstories, superbat reverse bang 2020, they don't meet until chapter 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 78,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightFoliage/pseuds/NightFoliage
Summary: Injustice is the hottest MMORPGs available to play! Set in a world where superpowers exist, players can become civilians, heroes, villains, and anybody in-between. Designed by Hiro “Toyman” Okamura, and Timothy Drake-Wayne, Injustice was created with the best Wayne Industries technology available and has the most human NPCs. The game is beyond it's time and is planned to be at the top of the charts for a while.Despite the game’s young age (two years into its projected six year release) one player has quickly risen in the ranks, S41838, or as his fans call him: Superman. The famous farm boy utube star has made his mark in Injustice. He triggered the last in-game event and is now the talk of the town, in game and out.By accident, Clark finds himself pushed into the spotlight and new found fame. To him, Let’s Plays are a means to stay in touch with friends and to make money. He never got into LPing to become famous.Bruce, who funded the game after Jason’s accident, is irritated (not jealous) that a video game player is such a big topic among the kids. After the nth time they mention him, Bruce decides to take matters into his own hands and see what all the fuss is about.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 42
Kudos: 167
Collections: Superbat Reverse Bang 2020





	1. Clark becomes a Let's Player

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3226629](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3226629/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Art Masterpost: A Game You Can't Win](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964579) by [3226629](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3226629/pseuds/3226629). 



> Author's Note - 
> 
> **I used "Choose not use archive warnings" because there are some pretty intense tags, but are relatively minor to the story. I used some of character's canon backstories (Clark's, Bruce's, Dick's, Jason's, etc), but they are all modified for this fic. As such, the rating is the same as the Justice League movie. Additional tags will be in the beginning of each chapter. 
> 
> \---
> 
> This fic is inspired by a lovely art piece for the 2020 Reverse Big Bang event! When I saw it I instantly decided to combine many of my loves and interests for this fic. As you’ll see, I’ve managed to work in my favorite tropes: identity porn, and AUs was very happy that Ms.3 was all for it. I also used a combination of ideas that I’ve pulled from my time as a pretty big fan of streamers and LPers (I was an avid fan of Minecraft LPers), not to mention some big ideas I’ve pulled from Isekai and MMO gaming novels/stories.
> 
> Ms.3 was a great partner to work with, even when I felt like I was going off the deep end with references and tie-ins everywhere. I wouldn’t have been able to develop the characterizations without Ms.3. [ Please check out the art that inspired this fic!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964579)
> 
> Here are some references that inspired the characterizations:  
> [ Video where Henry Cavill talks about how he got the call to be Superman](https://youtu.be/wmfFT2iORVg?t=89)  
> [ Article with Henry Cavil regarding gaming](https://www.gq-magazine.co.uk/culture/article/henry-cavill-interview-2019)
> 
> I tried to make this as DCEU, movie specific, only fans as friendly as possible (minus the articles), but there are many, many references to other series that have shaped this fic, such as the Pre-52 comics, the CW shows, the recent DC animated movies, the Justice League cartoon, the Legion of Superheroes cartoon, the Young Justice cartoon, etc, etc. (Although to be clear, besides Bruce and Clark, most everyone is a supporting character and doesn’t have very much screen time.)
> 
> Thanks to my beta: [caliowl!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliowl/pseuds/caliowl)
> 
> And thank you for all the inspiration, my amazing artist: Ms.3!
> 
> And thank you to the mod team who put this event together!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags/Warnings: Involves the start of the Man of Steel movie, canon-typical supporting character death, tornado 
> 
> Word Count: ~4.6k

_ As many of our readers may know, Mr. Okamura is a titan in the game industry. With more than a few tripleA titles under his belt, he has won several Game Awards, including the Game of the Year Award, for everything from storylines and dialogue to gameplay and mechanics. Our illustrious game designer has even won a few Euro Game awards for his most recent board game, and has won a Hugo award for his brilliant stories.  _

_ But Hiro Okamura has branched out into many fields, including software engineering and video game technology. He has also done projects with big names, such as Timothy Drake-Wayne, scion of the Drake Airlines and Wayne Industries, creating popular apps like Find What I Need and Heart It.  _

_ These two young titans of the technology industry are longtime friends, partially in thanks to their mutual acquaintance (and in Drake-Wayne’s case, adoptive father), Bruce Wayne of Wayne Industries.  _

_ Mr. Wayne is a longtime patron of the young and talented, and has helped fund many of Mr. Okamura and Mr. Drake-Wayne’s’s projects. But this collaboration has taken the cake: _

_ Injustice!  _

_ The new MMORPG has taken the world by storm! _

_ For our readers who don’t know, Injustice is currently the hottest game in the market. Designed by Okamura and Drake-Wayne, the MMORPG is a masterpiece of new technologies unlike anything the gaming world has seen. Its success is in part due to the fact that no other game can compare. And while I would love to discuss more about the game’s intricacies myself, I thought it would be wise to ask the creators themselves about Injustice.  _

_ “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me about Injustice, gentlemen.” _

_ TDW: Thank you for having us.  _

_ HO: Yes, thank you for letting us talk about our amazing game.  _

_ “Now could you tell us a little more about Injustice? I mean, this game has been topping the charts months after its release! What makes it unique compared to- oh, say, World of Warcraft or Fortnite?” _

_ HO: Well, our game is totally awesome, let me just say that.  _

_ (TDW laughs. HO grins at the response.)  _

_ HO: Our game is a world of superpower and fast action. Yeah, that means there are a lot of people playing out their fantasies, but there’s definitely more to it than that. I think what draws people to our game are the choices. Players can be superheroes, villains, or even civilians. There are no limits to what you can be in this game, unlike other games.  _

_ TDW: Not only that, but we did our best to combine all the things we love into this game. Missions that tie into the storyline, battle royales, open world exploration, a ranking system; it’s got it all. People can pick to play for one aspect or for all of them.  _

_ HO: Oh! But the greatest thing about Injustice is definitely the NPCs. _

_ [I lean forward in my seat. For each new thing that Okamura has released, he has also revealed a revolutionary new technology to go with it; from new camera apps in release of his social media apps, to satellite position algorithms for mobile games, to kinetic motion capture devices for new consoles. Could this be Okamura’s new reveal?] _

_ “Oh? Pray tell us a little more about what you mean.” _

_ [HO laughs and doesn’t answer, but luckily TDW answers the question instead.] _

_ TDW: As you may know, Hiro often reveals a new algorithm for each new video game he releases. For Injustice, we developed a new AI system.  _

_ HO: Name pending.  _

_ [I lean back in surprise.] _

_ “AI? How independent is it?” _

_ TDW: If you’re asking if the AIs are autonomous and will create a singularity, we’re far from that point. No, this AI is an improved learning system for machines. In this case, we used this algorithm so that the NPCs can act independently in-game depending on the player’s actions.  _

_ HO: Predictable NPC actions are like kryptonite in games for me, because I tend to mercilessly exploit their programming for my own means. (Bad for the games, not me.) I didn’t want that for Injustice, so we designed this algorithm resulting in life-like NPCs.  _

_ HO ctd: I’m sure you’ve heard, but if it wasn’t for the identifier we put in the game, players wouldn’t be able to tell NPCs from players. It’s great! With the help of the NPCs, everything, and I mean everything, from the game, to the story, to the environment, to the battles, they can all evolve as the NPCs evolve without any discretion from the programmers.  _

_ [I had heard about the game’s NPCs, but hadn’t known the extent of how revolutionary they are. To think that the game could evolve and change without the programmer’s input! Imagine the possibilities if it were applied to different avenues. And why wouldn’t this be the future of AI?]  _

_ “I’m sure our audience would love to hear more about this new system. Could you elaborate?” _

_ [HO and TO share a knowing grin.]  _

_ HO: Well… _

_ - _

_ Interview excerpt from The Person magazine “The Release of Injustice with Creators Hiro ‘Toyman’ Okamura and Tim Drake-Wayne” by G.Gordon Godfrey _

\-----

There were times when Clark wondered what would have happened if he had never left Smallville. 

Smallville’s his home. Clark loved everything, from working the land, the farm, and the people in the town. He would have been happy taking over the farm and making it his life and future. The place brought him peace where nothing else has. 

However, it’s those people he loved who convinced him to leave. With his grades, sharp mind, and extra-curriculars (not to mention his rather popular news blog), Clark could have easily applied to any journalism college he wanted. Pete told him it was a shame to stay in Smallville when he could go anywhere in the world. Lana had given him pamphlet after pamphlet of schools that had great journalism degrees. Cara had made a map of the schools with the best college culture (party and otherwise). Kara had told him to make sure to travel when he could (and visit her). Even Lex had something to say, a package arriving for him while he looked over schools. It contained a fancy fountain pen and a phone number. 

It seemed like everyone had expected Clark to leave town as soon as he could. But that wasn’t what Clark wanted, even when he started to receive a flood of acceptance letters to dozens of schools. 

Pa had fought with him over it almost everyday. At first it was about how Clark hadn’t made a decision. Then it was about how he hadn’t accepted any offers. Then it was about taking over the farm. They argued round and round; how the farm wasn’t profitable, but how it was a fulfilling living, how farming wasn’t steady, but had great hours, especially for a second job like writing articles. 

Clark didn’t quite understand why they fought so much, only that they did for a long time. 

At last his Ma stepped in to stop them. They agreed to disagree and came to a decision. Clark was convinced that an education would only help him run the farm and that he couldn’t grow as a writer without the experience of traveling and meeting other people. (If he happened to find another career that he liked more than the farm, that was fine too. And his Ma wouldn’t say no to Clark moving in with someone special.) Pa was convinced that after an education, Clark would be old enough to make his own decisions, whether it be about taking over the farm or not. 

Clark finalized his acceptance to Metropolis University. 

\-----

Met U opened Clark’s eyes. 

He made more friends, learned more, and found that he’d only scraped the surface of writing. 

It almost made him want to stay in Metropolis. 

Almost. 

Every time he went back home, without fail he would fall back in love with Smallville. He couldn’t imagine his home being anywhere else (although Metropolis did give Smallville a run for its money). When Clark told his parents, Ma laughed and his Pa huffed, but they seemed happy that he held so much love for the farm. 

And when they’re together like this, laughing, Clark thought that everything was going to be okay. That his future was bright and that any important decisions could be made with the two of them by his side. 

However, if he had known what would happen when he was away, Clark would have never left. 

The tornado swept through Smallville in Clark’s third year away. 

The tornado traveled through the farms, destroyed houses and ripped through crops. Even if the tornado hadn’t injured anyone, people would still be talking about it for years, because that’s how long the aftereffects lasted. Many lives were changed by that tornado. 

However, the disaster hadn’t just stopped with the land. It had also injured dozens and claimed lives, including Jonathan Kent’s. 

Clark was inconsolable and left school immediately in the middle of the semester. Luckily, he had good friends who helped him put in a leave of absence before he ruined any chances at coming back to Met U.

In Smallville, Clark kept his grief quiet. He wanted to keep up a strong front for Ma, who had just lost the love of her life, and to stop the pitying looks from all of the townspeople. When he was alone, he could break down. Unfortunately, Clark found himself breaking down quite often. Every nook and cranny of Smallville reminded him of his Pa, and the destruction reminded Clark that Pa had faced his death without him. The sadness was so great that it threatened to overwhelm him, but luckily his Ma and the farm keep him from wallowing too much. There were bills to pay, the farm to fix and upkeep, and his mother to keep company. 

Clark kept a clear head, if only because he needed one to handle all the farm equipment. 

He’d taken over the farm, but not in a way he expected to. 

For one, he's partnered with his Ma, as opposed to both of his parents or a special someone. And two, he’s got no other way of making money. 

The plan had been to graduate, maybe get a master’s if he felt up to it, but work up to being a legitimate investigative journalist. Then he could have come back to the farm and write on the side. But with no degree and no connections, he’s out of that game. Clark can continue to build up his writing profile, but there’s no money in it, yet. Nothing substantial that would help them get out of the debt they’re in. 

Ma said that all they could do was keep trucking along. However, she took a part-time job. Clark wasn’t allowed to take a similar job and was instead browbeaten into continuing his writing. She also encouraged him to do anything he wanted, no matter how frivolous, especially when she found out that Clark could keep touch with his friends through video games. 

Clark understood what Martha Kent was trying to do (it was hard to miss) and went along with her plans. He used his free time wisely, writing articles and doing odd jobs online. The money wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy games without draining his savings. 

The games were where things snowballed. 

Jimmy and John Henry were not only avid gamers, but also deeply into social media. While Jimmy was trying to make his mark in photography, John was into utube: posting engineering projects, DIY videos, and even game recordings. They were both successful in their own ways. Jimmy was able to leverage his work into a position at the Daily Planet (Clark was.. jealous, but very happy for his friend), while John was able to monetize his channel. 

There was no way for Clark to emulate Jimmy (there was no way to get a job at the Daily Planet without actually being able to commute to Metropolis), but Clark found his interest piqued by John Henry’s utube channel. 

John said his popularity was definitely due to his handsome face and stellar body. Clark thought it was also because of his friendly smile, warm disposition, and interesting content. But the idea was planted in Clark’s mind, especially when John’s followers enjoyed Clark’s presence in the man’s videos. Making money while making videos and writing articles was the ideal side-job. The fact that any exposure could help promote his writing was reason enough to try. 

So he tried and, to his surprise, he succeeded. 

It started with him entering a competition to join a group of utubers called “The Legion” and being accepted as one of its members. He had entered on John’s recommendation and after some research, decided he liked the group and their content. At the time, he hadn’t realized they had a niche popularity and were only getting more popular. Just by joining, Clark’s channel was propelled into gaining enough followers and views to monetize his channel. His writing became a little more popular too just by association. It took a few more years, but The Legion and his work grew popular enough that his Ma could stop working a part-time job. 

With such good results, Clark made sure to put his all into his channel. He researched games and Let’s Plays, made a stream channel, and interacted with his new group as much as possible. Thankfully, the Legionnaires quickly accepted Clark as one of their own. 

\-----

“.. and thank you for tuning into the Legionnaire Podcast! This is your host, Bouncy, signing off. Until next time folks!”

Clark breathed a sigh of relief. He had never become comfortable with recording his content. Once he had discovered streaming, he had migrated most of his content to that platform. There was just something about having to plan and edit videos that made him nervous. With streams, they took place and once it ended the content was finished. 

He was even worse with podcasts. With the addition of more people, Clark couldn’t edit out the sections he wasn’t comfortable with. 

“That was a pretty good session, guys,” Bouncy said with a big stretch. Many of the others did the same. 

“Yes, I’m glad we got to go over everything before the Legionnaire live stream of Injustice,” SaturnGal agreed. 

“Right? Another game by Hiro Okamura! And it’s a superhero theme, god, am I excited,” LightningLad said, visibly spinning around in his chair. “His last few games were insane. I can’t wait till this game comes out. Tell us about it again, Brainy?”

Brainy, otherwise known as Brainiac5, sent his notes to the chat and then shared his screen. Clark downloaded them so he could follow along. They were exceedingly meticulous and well researched; Clark often used them for his own articles. Several pictures of Hiro Okamura popped up on screen. 

“Hiro Okamura-”

“Toyman,” LightningLad added. 

Brainy made a face. “‘Toyman’, as many of his fans call him, has developed a new MMORPG. It’s a world where superpowers exist, where players can become superheroes, villains, civilians, or something new, so should they desire-”

“Gosh, that’s so cool,” Bouncy said dreamily. 

“Agreed,” Brainy said, before continuing on. 

Clark listened absently, while flipping through the notes. Brainy had included a brief history of Okamura’s accomplishments that related to the Injustice project. The accomplishments were extensive and it wasn’t a surprise that Hiro Okamura was practically a household name. The young man had dabbled in many fields, including engineering and programming. And he was still a teenager. Him and-

“Oh, I hadn’t realized that this was a collaboration,” Clark said aloud. 

“Is it really?” LightningLad asked. “I thought Toyman created most of his games alone.”

The screen changed, pulling up other business logos. “No, S is correct. This project is technically a collaboration with Drake Airlines and Wayne Industries,” Brainy said. 

“Drake Airlines?” PhantomGrl sounded incredulous. “Aren’t they a traveling business? They do cruises and flights, right?”

“And Wayne Industries?” StarMan picked up the thread of the conversation. “I didn’t think they had an entertainment division, although they do electronics.”

“Well, I don’t know about Drake Airlines, but I could see Wayne Industries getting into video games,” LightningLad said. “They get into everything: electronics, lab instruments, hell, they even started designing farm equipment. My town has started to buy their equipment.”

“Oh, is it any good?” Clark asked. 

The other Let’s Player looked like he was about to say something contrary, before his mouth twisted. 

“Yeah,” LightningLad admitted, grudgingly. “We’ve only bought a few things, but so far it’s not bad. Wayne Industries also has programs for farms that are struggling, and a few of them in my area used it to buy some industrial-sized equipment. They don’t even have to jailbreak them.”

Clark made a note to look into what the company had to offer.

“Anyways, there’s a perfectly logical explanation why so many companies are working on Injustice,” Brainy said. “Timothy Drake-Wayne is going to be collaborating with Okamura in an official capacity, so he’s representing both companies. You can see a list of the unofficial collaborations they’ve done together on page seventeen of my packet.”

Made sense. Tim Drake-Wayne was considered the heir to Drake Airlines, despite also being a current employee of Wayne Industries. He was a genius in his own right, a personal friend of Okamura, and the adoptive son of the CEO of Wayne Industries, Bruce Wayne. 

“Making games with friends on a multi-million dollar budget. That sounds like the dream,” Bouncy said, wistfully. 

“But playing games with your friends is pretty good too right, Bouncy?” SaturnGal asked. 

“Of course,” the man said with a bright smile. 

The others continue to chat about Injustice and Clark occasionally chimed in. Otherwise, he’s preoccupied by the information packet that Brainy sent out. There were so many articles to write, not even including the ones that he’ll be able to write once the game comes out. He was looking forward to it. 

\-----

“Hello everyone, this is S41838! And we are here today on my first day playing Injustice!” 

_ Hi~ S <3 _

_ Woo! Let’s get this show on the road.  _

_ I haven’t missed a single Legionnaire broadcast for Injustice!!! _

Clark kept a careful eye on the comments as he went through his opening and tried to hide his surprise at the number of viewers he had. 

On opening day it wasn’t surprising that there were thousands of people logging in to play and just as many Let’s Players who were streaming. Instead of fighting for viewers, the Legionnaires decided not to do their first stream at the same time. They would stream one after another, with the Legion channel hosting the stream of the current LPer. Thankfully, it had gone over wonderfully with their viewers. Even Clark with his late time slot had almost triple the amount of viewers than normal. 

Clark once again thanked his friends for making him apply to be a Legionnaire. 

The numbers did make him a little nervous, especially because many of the viewers weren’t his. Not to mention it would be harder to keep track of the comments with so many people. He didn’t want to, but he might have to base his gameplay on the commenters' reactions. 

For now, Clark kept the same level of enthusiasm as usual, talking to the stream like they were old friends from Smallville. He hoped it was welcoming to the new viewers and luckily it seemed like the other viewers were happy continuing the same atmosphere in chat. 

Clark talked through his character creation, picking his usual username, an avatar that looked like himself, and superstrength as a power because he felt like it suited him. Something simple and reliable. While he’s flipping through the options, he talked to the chat:

“Why is my username S41838? The S is something I picked up from my parents, and the numbers I associate with an important time in my life. Y’all can just call me S, no worries, you don’t have to say every number just because I do…”

“Is my jaw really that square? I’ll just move the character marker a little- oof too much. Wow, yeah that is not a good look for anyone…”

“No glasses? I guess it’s not very safe for a superhero to wear glasses. Oh! That's right, I’m also going the superhero route with everyone in the Legion. Yeah, we’ll be the Legion of Superheroes. Awesome name, right? Haha, maybe it’s a little old fashioned...”

“Super-strength. It’s reliable and a well-rounded super power. Not to mention I’ll be able to use it right away...”

“Oh wow, they even record your voice for your character? That’s so cool- no I won’t be doing a funny voice for mine…”

After an hour, Clark finished his character. He tried to move fast, but it’s the little things that really make an avatar feel easy to use. He was afraid that he isolated his new viewers, but unexpectedly, they were having fun with him. 

Then he finally joined the game. 

Wow. 

He was still in the beginner's area, but it’s absolutely gorgeous. All tall skyscrapers and thousands of people walking around in stylized outfits. The graphics weren’t life-like, but instead like a stylized comic book, all bright colors and clean lines. Clark absolutely adored the aesthetic. Everything popped out and felt brighter than the real world. He angled the camera upward to take it all in. 

On the buildings themselves were also television screens showing ‘live’ news. There was a pretty reporter by the name of Amy Adams talking about the influx of supers in all the territories. Clark stood and watched the footage play out. 

“Hey! Don’t stand in the middle of the road!” 

The voice startled Clark out of his reverie and he typed out a quick sorry directed towards the player. His character repeated it aloud in his voice. How embarrassing, he must have been blocking people’s path like a tourist. 

Clark chuckled to himself and the stream. “I guess, I shouldn’t stand around like some noob.”

He moved to the side, even as another person called out, “Rookies should be more careful.”

Could everyone tell that he was new to the game?

Clark checked the stream’s reactions. 

_ It’s okay S!  _

_ I looooove your reaction! I was the same way! Isn’t the art great!  _

_ Lol, it’s cool I was surprised too _

_ S! Those were NPCs! _

The last comment made him pause. 

“An NPC?” He asked aloud, wondering if the commenter was trolling him. The interaction had been so life-like. 

The chat immediately exploded with agreement. He recognized one of his moderators, who agreed as well. 

_ All the ones with the Injustice logo in front of their names are NPCs _

Sure enough, Clark spotted many characters sporting the symbol in front of their names while others didn’t. It was hard to believe, but his mods wouldn’t trick him so he accepted it. 

But as he moved around the world, he couldn’t believe that the ones with symbols were NPCs! They were so life-like! Clark watched as they responded to the players perfectly and hurried around with their own lives. He couldn’t help but spend the next part of his stream interacting with the NPCs, delighted by the conversation. (It must be the Kansas in him, he said with a chuckle.) The chat encouraged him and while he’s talking, he was thinking up his next article. 

His Bicker app started to buzz with a call. That must be Bouncy. He accepted it. 

“Hey, everyone,” Clark said to get the chat’s attention “Why don’t we give a big warm welcome to the captain of The Legion, Bouncy!” 

The chat started to say ‘hi’ as Clark pulled up the call onscreen. 

“Hey, stream!” Bouncy said with a cheerful wave. “Hey S! How are things going?”

“Everything’s amazing, Bouncy! Injustice is insane,” Clark said. 

Bouncy chuckled. “I know the feeling. I can see that you’re still in the beginner area. How long are you going to be there?”

“Until I talk to everyone?” Clark said with a laugh. 

“I get it, it's the Kansas in ya, isn’t it?” Bouncy said with a laugh. Yeah, Bouncy got it. Clark had checked into the other’s stream and had seen Bouncy doing the same. “Well, I’m glad you had the stream to keep you company while you were doing your intros, but I’m afraid your time is up. We’ll be swapping to another Legionnaire stream. Next up is PhantomGrl!”

“Is it that time already? Well, everyone, thank you for keeping me company. Please check out PhantomGrl’s stream and thank again you for tuning in to my stream!” Clark said. 

Bouncy waved again and they ended the call. 

Most of the stream left and Clark tried not to wince at the numbers. There were only a few dozen viewers now and he consoled himself with the thought that at least they were supporting another Legionnaire. The earlier numbers were at least a huge boost and he thought he saw a few more subscriptions to his account. 

_ We’re here for you S~ _

_ Lol, are you going to talk to every NPC? _

_ Ya ya ya, go for it _

At least the people who were left cheered him on. 

Clark smiled. Talk to every NPC? That wasn’t a terrible idea (it was his idea of fun, honestly). “Maybe I should chart what every NPC says?” Clark wondered aloud. It would make for a fun article. 

The stream teased him, but more importantly cheered him on. So Clark continued to explore and talk to those around him. 

Surprisingly, he started getting requests from the NPCs. Maybe not surprising per se, quests- missions were a staple in games like these, but Clark hasn’t even finished the tutorial. But when a kid came over asking Clark to help save their cat in a tree, Clark obliged. It was an easy enough task and when he handed the cat back, the NPC thanked him shyly. Clark melted at the sight. 

He continued to do any requests he could and kept in mind the ones he couldn't for later. They don’t sound like normal missions, just odd jobs as if it were real life. After what must be hours of helping out, Clark felt like the NPCs were friendlier to him. 

Maybe some of the missions were rather frivolous (he probably shouldn’t be using his superstrength to help people retrieve things they dropped under cars), but it felt nice to be needed. It helped that the NPCs thanked him afterwards. One woman shook his hand and tossed him a smile over her shoulder before she left. When he had opened his hand, there had been a paper with a phone number on it. (Clark flushed. He knew that romancing NPCs was part of the game, but- the NPCs were so  _ real _ .) The phone number got pulled into his inventory before he could decide what to do with it. 

Eventually, one of the NPCs gave him a skill point. That too got sucked into his inventory before he could return it and Clark looked around wondering if it was normal. When it looked like it wasn’t normal, Clark felt strangely guilty. He didn’t really deserve such a nice thank-you gift, especially not when he was helping out for his own selfish reasons and to entertain the stream. But it was too late to give it back now, so he thanked the NPC aloud. 

Eventually, he forgot about the incident, distracted by other NPCs and missions. 


	2. Clark plays Injustice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: ~5.7k

_ Hello game fans! This is your favorite Let’s Player, Speed Runner, and Game Reviewer: Impulse!  _

_ As you may know, I happen to be “friends” (more like bros) with the one and only Tim Drake-Wayne. Now, I’ve already done an informal interview with not only Tim, but also with Toyman about Injustice (link below in the description), but for this video, I thought I would give a ‘sneak peak’ on what players should think about before the game is released.  _

_ That’s right. I had a chance to play the game and get an inside scoop.  _

_ Don’t worry, calm down peeps. I’ll tell you everything.  _

_ So we’ve already established this game has everything, great storyline, missions, battle royales, role-playing, even romancing NPCs, SO MUCH STUFF!!! _

_ But here are the really cool things, and super spoilery stuff to consider before playing the game: _

**_Classes_ **

_ There are three different classes: hero, villain, and civilian. They are exactly what they sound like; heroes help people, villains break the rules, and civilians live their lives with the wacky shenanigans happening around them. But the cool thing is that players aren’t limited to one class and they can change classes when they want to, within reason.  _

_ That is a huge deal. Blows my mind really! _

_ Because that means player actions are super important and your decisions totally affect your gameplay. While other games have this feature, I don’t think any of them are on Injustice’s scale. But don’t worry, the versatility of this feature also means that you aren’t railroaded into a certain type of gameplay either. You can always change your mind later and players can still go for a competitive, cooperative, and/or casual gaming experience. (Say that three times fast.)  _

_ So go crazy with your character creation!  _

_ You can change classes mid-way through the game and maybe your character’s backstory might just help with whatever new persona you’re aiming for.  _

_ Especially when it comes to (drumroll please):  _

**_Fame/Infamy and Reputation_ **

_ A HUGE part of the game will be about a player’s reputation.  _

_ I’m sure you guys have heard about the cool new NPCs with the sophisticated AI’s, but what you might not know is that this is just ONE of the new algorithms that Toyman Games/Drake Airlines/Wayne Industries is rolling out.  _

_ Another is centered around its data collecting software. Don’t worry guys, it’s for the game only (although if you opt in, it’ll help with some of Hiro’s research projects).  _

_ That means that your choice will have consequences affecting your reputation and standing in game. A player can become famous (or infamous) for their actions. One’s reputation will affect their gameplay, especially when there are NPCs that can react to it.  _

_ And your reputation comes into play for this extremely cool part of the game: _

**_Territories_ **

_ Now this is something special that I haven’t seen implemented in many mainstream games: competitive territories, where players can “control” a space.  _

_ How this works in Injustice is if a player’s reputation or fame/infamy is high enough, they can become the top player in the area. That is so cool and there are a lot of ways to go about this in game! Yeah, you can achieve results through fighting, leveling up, and the battle royales but you can also do it through missions, player interaction, NPC interaction, successful role-playing, romancing characters, and more! Sounds familiar, right? _

_I think this is the mainstay of the game, the special thing_ _that will allow this game to be popular for years._

_ Because how cool would it be to win out against all other players and be the number one player in a territory?  _

_ There are seven territories to conquer, all with their specialized types of gameplay.  _

_ But it won’t be easy. Not only do you have to contend with all the other players, you also have to fight against the specially designed NPC’s for each territory.  _

_ And I gotta say, they’re super cool, so watch out: _

**_Territory Controllers_ **

_ There’s the Shazam Family, a family of seven superheroes who work together to keep their metropolitan territory, The City, safe from baddies. This is a more casual play area, which lends itself to all classes: hero, villain, and civilian. With a lot of different NPCs, there will be a lot of different types of character interactions. It’s a very mission-heavy area, but allows for both solo and cooperative play.  _

_ There’s Aquaman and Mera, a royal couple that rule the Oceanis territory with a firm hand and an impressive array of superpowers. Neither of them are quite hero or villain, but are complex characters with amazing backstories that are firmly entrenched in the story of this territory. This is an area that lends itself to more serious role-play and more heavily-modded characters.  _

_ There’s Cyborg, a cybernetic superhero who is the leader in The Lab. The Lab is a territory dedicated to team oriented gameplay, from everything to missions, to in-game player events, to even the meta of pushing the boundaries of what superpowers can do. This is a very cooperative area with a lot of player interaction.  _

_ There’s The Flash, a speedster who is the fastest man alive, and also the top superhero of a territory with an impressive Rogue’s Gallery. This is a casual PVP zone that is meant for creativity and unique utilization of strengths. There’s also potential for a lot of character interaction, even with the territory hero! (I think you guys know me well enough to know which superpower and area I’m going to go to!)  _

_ There’s Vixen, a powerhouse of a superheroine with every animal power imaginable. Here, players can pit themselves against one another in non-fighting situations or against the environment, The Savannah. It’s meant as a high technical skill territory, for all sorts of superpowers.  _

_ There’s Batman, the infamous anti-hero of No Man’s Land. Despite the name, this is a twisted gothic city, with nooks and crannies for all types of interactions with other players and NPCs alike. This is an intense PVP zone, that lends itself to more morally-gray gameplay.  _

_ There’s Doctor Harley Quinn, a villainess who is the undisputed ruler of The Haven. The territory is a place for anarchy, where the rules of society, and the game, can be bent or even broken. It’s meant for pushing the boundaries of what can be done in game.  _

_ Last, but not least, is the iconic Wonder Woman. You should recognize her already, because she’s been the most touted character for the game. Tall, strong, and beloved, Wonder Woman is the top hero of Injustice. The whole game is her territory and players will be seeing her (and the others) in-game and during in-game events.  _

_ Sounds  _ **_insane_ ** _ , right? _

_ Players can move around territories, but can only build reputations in one at the beginning of the game, so choose wisely. I know I will! _

_ -Transcription from “Injustice: A Game Preview and Review” by Impulse Games on utube _

\-----

The chat rushed by and Clark silently sent up a prayer for the fact that his viewers were now numbering in the thousands. He still couldn’t believe he had so many, especially when he’s competing with so many other Injustice streamers. The competition for viewers wasn’t as bad as Clark was expecting, but it did mean that he can’t be so whimsical with his streams anymore. Clark will have to buckle down and start playing the game for real. This is only his second session and he only wants the number to go up as he played more. 

“Hello everyone, this is S41838. After exploring the newbie area of The City, I’m finally ready to start the game.”

The chat exploded with encouragement. 

“Yeah, I know it took awhile,” Clark said, fondly. His viewers were the best. “Excuse me for wanting to enjoy everything.”

Clark turned his character around and started walking. There was a large arrow in the sky, pointing towards an NPC that was standing around. There was an exclamation point above the NPC’s head. Hopefully, the NPC would help him stop the tutorial and get rid of the game’s helpful instructions on the bottom of the screen. (‘Use the arrow keys to move forward to the NPC with your first mission!’ The game helpfully suggested. Even Clark felt a faint bit of irritation over the forced instructions.)

Clark dutifully clicked on the NPC (Alan Draper) and started a conversation. 

The young man turned towards him and blinked. His expression was blank and a touch unfriendly (although maybe it was because he looked tired). “Can I help you?” He asked. 

Clark’s chatbox lit up and the message ‘type something!’ appeared. Clark had already talked to a few NPCs (as many as he could) and knew the drill. He typed a message that his character repeated aloud, “Hi! I’m S41838 and I’m a new hero in town.” 

Alan eyed him, almost like he was offended that someone in bright, primary colors was talking to him. (It was a silly outfit, Clark admitted, but he had been going for goofy and fun, not serious.) The NPC sighed. “For some reason I’ve been getting a lot of your type lately. Don’t know why the universe has it out for me, but I guess I could show you around,” Alan said with a shrug. 

That was.. very meta of the NPC, but since he’s helping Clark out, Clark didn’t want to say anything about it. Clark made sure that his character was smiling and thanked the man. 

Alan shrugged again. “No problem, uh.. What’s the name?” 

Clark, or well, his character, repeated his screen name. 

Alan wrinkled his nose. “That’s not a very good superhero name,” the man snarked. “How about something simpler, and more classy? Like Superman?”

Clark frowned. “That’s a good superhero name,” Clark said aloud to the stream. “But I really like my screenname.” 

But his character doesn’t say any of that aloud and the young man nodded. “You’re smiling, you like it, I’m glad. Then I’m making the executive decision (even though I’m not supposed to make any of those before coffee) to allow that to be your name,” and the young man snapped his fingers. 

And in front of his eyes, Clark’s username flipped over to reveal the name ‘Superman’ in bold letters. The username ‘S41838’ showed up below in a much smaller, less grand font. A message unhelpfully popped up, ‘Your name has now been designated as Superman!’ 

“What the hell,” Clark swore. 

The chat exploded. (Ugh, he tried not to swear so he could keep his channel relatively accessible for all ages, but he just couldn’t help it). Whether it was due to the swearing or the name change, he didn’t know. An NPC making such a drastic change? This was  _ insane _ . 

The name ‘Superman’ kept spinning in bold letters. 

Clark’s mouth moved, but no other words came out. 

_ Hey, you okay? _

The color of the text leapt out, a bright forest green that stood out from the other black and neon colors of the rest of the chat. It was Jimmy. Every once in a while Jimmy helped moderate the chat when he came to watch. Clark had given him special privileges, such as the special colored text. The color calmed him down and he pulled on a smile. 

“What a surprise,” he said aloud, both to Jimmy and the chat. “I guess my name is Superman now.”

_ It suits you~ _

_ Wow that NPC sure is cheeky _

_ I didn’t realize NPCs had that much power, do you want to report it? _

“I’m fine, guys. This is just one of the quirks of the game,” Clark replied back to the chat. 

On screen, Alan started walking away, “Come on, I’ll show you around.” 

Clark quickly followed him. Alan gave him what seemed like a practiced tour, pointing at this and that, while S followed next to him. Clark swiveled his camera back and forth to look at all the sights. A lot of NPCs waved at Alan, who acknowledged them, but a few gave S a wave as well. 

Alan glanced back at him. “You seem popular. That’s good. Being popular can make things easier for a hero, and if you work hard, you can be the top hero in the area. That might be awhile though, the current heroes in The City are super popular. They-”

A crash interrupted them and Clark almost lost sight of Alan as players and NPCs alike started running around. There was yelling and screaming as civilians ran and heroes moved towards the action. Clark moved towards Alan, but the man shook his head. 

“Go ahead and help out!” He yelled, barely able to be heard over the noise. “I’ll be fine!”

Immediately, a mission appeared in S’ chatlog. ‘Help Civilians Get Away’. 

“That was quick,” Clark said. “Oh, dam- darn. It’s practically a stampede.”

A sea of exclamation points popped up. Clark maneuvered his character to a little girl that had tripped, the exclamation point above her head red and blinking. He kept a steady stream of chatter as his character reassured the girl and lifted her to safety. Her big eyes and sniffles were of a very stereotypical damsel NPC, but the responses she made and quick conversation they had would have convinced Clark that she was a real girl if he hadn’t known better. Luckily, her parents arrived soon after, taking her off his hands. After that, Clark dived back into the fray. 

Or at least, he tried to. 

The ground shook hard and he was thrown off-balance. But before he could land straight on his butt, a strong hand caught him. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

Clark followed the arm up to see a woman who could only be a superhero smiling at him. Her costume was a royal purple, with a half-cape and a lightning bolt on the front. He was disarmed by her bright smile and bare arms (which flexed impressively). But before he can thank her, she continued talking:

“I’m Darla Marvel! Don’t worry, I’m here to help!” 

In a flash, Clark was upright and she blurred away. Exclamation points and the civilians alike started disappearing in front of his eyes. She’s a speedster, Clark thought dumbly, wondering what he can do to help. 

But before he could move, something large crashed into the ground before him. It lifted up- and Clark realized that it wasn’t a grey mass of concrete, but a monster that started to charge- Darla put herself in between the civilians and the monster, raining down a flurry of blows. 

An exclamation point at the side of his vision gave a little bounce, reminding Clark that there were others to save. He hurried towards the other civilians. 

He and a few others dodged the action as Darla and the monster clashed. The ground shook and Clark could see Darla stopping the monster from running into them wherever he moved. He wondered if this was an in-game event, or maybe a cut scene because the action was so terrifying. It felt like players and NPCs could die at any moment. Was the game always like this?

He couldn’t think about that now though, because there were still people to save and missions to fulfill. Darla was quick to keep the monster at bay, but the exclamation points kept popping up. 

Why weren’t all of them running away? That was when Clark realized that not all of the civilians were NPCs, a lot of them were players. Some snapped photos and some weren’t quick enough to get away and were trapped too close to the battle. He ushered the rubber-neckers away and worked together with other players to move debris and clear paths. (He commented to the stream that picking super-strength was definitely a good decision on his part. There was no lack of heavy objects to move.) 

During the crisis, the game and Alan (who was staying a safe distance away, but was still in the area) yelled helpful directions. 

While he helped (and kept ongoing commentary aloud), the battle raged on. Other heroes in similar costumes as Darla (bright, saturated colors, capes, a symbol of a lightning bolt over their chests) also entered the fray. When Clark wasn’t helping, he couldn’t help but look at them. They quipped, they helped each other in battle, they herded the monster, and helped the civilians all with practiced ease. 

Clark hoped he could also be like that one day.

Another hero in crimson red arrived, lightning bolt across his chest, white cape fluttering behind him. 

“Shazam Family!” He called out. “Help has arrived!” 

“That’s pretty confident. I hope he has the skills to match,” Clark said aloud. 

But before the man made his move, another figure appeared behind him, haloed by the sun. 

She appeared wreathed in sunlight, primary colors and burnished metal, bright like a beacon. Clark recognized her. Of course he did. She was the main icon of the game, her image used from everything to billboards to backsplashes for the game. But none of those images could compare to her now. In game, in motion, she was more of a hero than the still images could contain. 

“Fear not,” she said, her accented voice ringing through the area. 

And no one moved because all they could do was watch as she came down to earth. She touched down lightly, but her very presence seemed to send an impact through the area. 

The monster let out a primal scream at the sight of her and charged. She whipped out a golden lasso and with a few impressive moves, had the beast tied up and struggling at her feet. 

“That was awesome Wonder Woman!” The man in red said. He held out his hand for a high five. 

Wonder Woman’s lips quirked up in a smile. She kept a firm grip on the monster and gave the man a high five, clearly amused. 

Then the man turned to his fellow heroes that shared his lighting bolt. “Good job, Shazam Family!” 

“You didn’t do anything, Billy,” teased one of the Shazam Family members, a young man in electric blue. 

“Yeah, but you guys did a good job,” Billy Marvel said with a friendly slap on the back. “Now I’m here to help clean up.” 

And that caused the area to start moving again. Wonder Woman, with the help of the authorities and some of the Shazam Family, helped detain the monster. The rest of the Shazam family, along with the heroes and civilians, helped to clean up the area, while others cleared out. Clark decided to stay and help. There were still missions in the area, even if they did seem rather low in experience. 

It helped that his chat in the stream encouraged his ‘apple pie and sunshine’ tendencies. (People had such odd impressions of the Midwest.) 

He even got the chance to see Darla Marvel up close again. 

“Thanks again!” She glanced up at his name, “Superman!” 

Clark groaned aloud and the chat exploded again with good-natured teasing. 

“I hope we’ll be seeing you around!” She said, her smile still bright, despite the debris in her hair. Then she zoomed away. 

“Wow,” Clark said aloud. “That was some intro, right guys?” 

The chat agreed. 

\-----

The game was amazing and Clark loved every part of it. Surprisingly, playing wasn’t a chore and neither was streaming (although he never really shook his performance jitters) and Clark quickly established a routine. He set stream times, made sure to participate in Legion activities, did a few battle royales, made utube videos, and played privately in his spare time (when he had it). 

It may have been a combination of playing with friends so frequently (although not too frequently so their footage didn’t overlap) and the NPCs, but every recording session felt fresh. This was a very good thing for him. He could enjoy the game without anybody else’s influence and got to see the game through his own eyes. Clark hadn’t been able to do that in a long time. 

His popularity skyrocketed (as did many of the other Legionnaires) and Clark finds himself almost overwhelmed. Clark first noticed the rise in popularity with his articles that seemed to explode in appeal when he first wrote about Injustice. Then his ePatron, donation goals, and even his Atlantis wishlists got fulfilled. He struggled to explain everything to his Ma when he brought back the truck, full of packages from his latest trip to his PO box. 

“Well, you’re a very handsome young man,” his Ma said, not all surprised when he explained (even though she eyed the boxes Clark started to haul in). 

“Ma,” Clark couldn’t help but whine. That wasn’t... He knew his looks were a factor for his popularity but he didn’t want to hear that from his Ma. 

“Maybe it would be easier if you weren’t single,” his Ma had said mildly. 

Clark winced but kept his mouth shut. 

In the beginning of his Let’s Play career, Clark had promised that he would make sure to set aside time for the rest of his life. That meant farm work, writing, his friends, Ma, and Smallville. But now that Clark was established in the gaming community, his Ma was pushing him to ‘spread his wings’. While she didn’t explicitly say that he should move out, he got the feeling that she wanted him to have a life separate from Smallville. After all, being a Let’s Player allowed him to work anywhere with a good set-up. She also mentioned that he should think about finishing his degree. And maybe he could meet people in the meantime. 

Clark couldn’t even imagine leaving his Ma alone while he went out on dates or finished his degree. 

(And he couldn’t even imagine dating now that he was an LPer. In Smallville alone he was a micro-celebrity, affecting his interactions with those who recognized him. Even his visits to Metropolis to see friends were complicated by their compounded micro-celebrity status. He had also heard some horror stories from Jimmy and John to know that the dating scene was complicated.)

God, the teasing was so tiring. 

During dinner, Ma recognized that her teasing was too much. “Oh Clark, honey, I’m sure that your followers are watching you because you’re sincere and sweet. After all, if it was only about looks then it would be hard to have so much attention when you have so many handsome co-stars among your friends, right?”

“Thanks, Ma.” Surprisingly, that did make him feel better. The Legion was filled with very good-looking people.

Then he narrowed his eyes. He didn’t think she was suggesting he date some of the Legionnaires, but he could never be too sure. 

“Besides, I would much rather someone fall in love with you through your articles than your gaming videos,” she continued. “I know that much about your tastes.”

Clark made a noise of distress even though he couldn't refute her. (She was right; she was always right.)

“Now go ahead and tell me more about your new game,” Ma said. 

So he did. He told her about his new schedule and let her know his tentative plans with the Legionnaires. In turn, he asked her about her book club and the other hobbies she picked up. She was thinking about wood-working, or working with fibers. Maybe spinning her own wool for her knitting. Maybe they could get a sheep, or even an alpaca if the climate was right for one. And in the end, they talked about the farm. 

Really, Clark was lucky to have such a great mom. 

\-----

As Clark got more comfortable with Injustice, he felt like he could slowly unwind from the need to perform all the time in his videos. He was always earnest, but there was a certain need to always be at his best in front of the camera that he couldn’t quite shake. The other Legionnaires (Brainy and Bouncy, in particular) understood. 

“To be successful in this industry, you have to be likable,” Brainy had said once upon a time, when Clark had first joined The Legion. “Oh, we’re as honest to ourselves as we can be; the audience tends to notice if you’re not genuine, but it shouldn’t be surprising that we always hold ourselves to a certain standard. I, myself often- hm, limit my vocabulary so that it can be understood by all audiences.”

“That’s a fancy way of saying you ‘dumb yourself down’ for the audience, Brainy,” Clark had quipped back. “But I get it. You’re an all ages stream and you have a big fanbase in non-english speaking countries.” 

Brainy had smiled at him, glad he understood. “So don’t worry about it S, it’s part of the job.” 

Bouncy also had similar concerns. 

“I’m not as ‘conventionally handsome’,” Bouncy had said with finger quotes, “as the others, and I have to show my appeal in different ways. I rely on my verbal content for a good show so a lot of my work is scripted.”

“Bouncy, you're plenty good-looking, especially for Triplicate,” Clark reassured. 

“Yeah, I’m very lucky to have her,” Chuck said. “But as I was saying, my ‘Analysis’ video series is one of my most popular videos on utube, and that’s completely scripted. People still like it. Don’t worry about being ‘natural’.”

Clark took the advice to heart and let himself fall into the role of Superman. 

\-----

Or so he thought. 

As much as he loved the game, Clark still wanted time to himself. It was nice to play without the stream watching over his shoulder. 

For example, when he had finished a mission that guaranteed an S-class rarity item, he had to endure a litany of pity from the stream due to the non-combative nature of said item. Clark had gotten a disguise item. The item had nothing to do with his abilities and didn’t suit his hero class. 

Somehow the comments he had received were too much, so he had decided to play with the item later on in his own time. He avoided his usual stream time and ducked into a private area, mostly filled with NPCs where he wouldn’t encounter any players he knew. The NPCs knew him well enough to leave him alone when he was in a hurry. 

Clark looked over the S-class item in his inventory. 

_ Disguise Glasses _

_ Wearable by players only. Does not take up an accessory space. Equipable at any time. Gives player an NPC disguise, civilian class only. Infinite uses.  _

_ A secret special item with the highest rarity :) _

Clark blinked at the description, then shrugged. Hiro Okamura was known to be very eccentric in his video game designs (in a good, genius sort of way). The flavor text for this item was probably just an easter egg, of which there were many for this game. It wasn’t very normal for a polished, Triple-A game, but was exceptionally charming and showed Hiro Okamura and Tim Drake-Wayne’s personalities. 

Well, he wouldn’t know the full extent of the item without trying them on. 

The change was instantaneous. 

As soon as the glasses were on his character’s face, he was no longer wearing his hero outfit. Instead, his avatar was wearing what appeared to be the starting outfits for civilians: blue jeans, red shirt, and sneakers. 

But the biggest surprise was when he noticed his name: floating above his head was the Injustice symbol indicating an NPC and a blinking cursor where a name would be. 

He couldn’t- this was- it was  _ crazy _ , what he was looking at!

Clark reread the description:  _ Gives player an NPC disguise, civilian class only.  _

“What!” 

He couldn’t even-

“Clark? Is everything okay up there?” 

His Ma’s voice broke him out of his confused state. 

“Everything’s fine, Ma!” He called back. 

“Okay!” 

Clark heard his Ma walk away. He must have been really loud if his Ma was checking up on him. 

He was allowed to be though, because these Disguise Glasses were a  _ game-changer _ . 

Okay, okay. Clark tried to calm down. He didn’t know when anyone, NPC or otherwise, would show up. He had to figure out a name. Something fun? Something people wouldn’t pin to himself… Clark quickly typed in  _ Henry Cavill _ . After he clicked out, the name remained and he couldn’t change it. That was fine, that was what he was expecting, but the Injustice/NPC symbol stayed. 

Wow. 

Could he-

Okay, wow he could also go into his inventory and change out his accessories as long as they were civilian equippable items. Unfortunately he didn’t have many, but he found a black jacket to throw on to make himself a little less plain (and look less like a starting player). It also had the side-effect of making him look more like Clark Kent. Clark had forgone the glasses for his character because glasses on a superhero wasn’t practical. If he bought a pair of boots and a flannel shirt, then he would look exactly like himself in real life. 

He was sure that no one would recognize him though. Pretty sure. Kinda sure. The change between hero and civilian felt so big. The costume was larger than life, bright colors that screamed superhero, while this outfit blended in with the (admittedly bright) background. 

He wondered.. Clark quickly looked around. He was still alone. He de-equipped the glasses and he popped back into his superhero avatar, ‘Superman’ name and all. Then he re-equipped the glass and became the NPC, Henry Cavill. 

Infinite uses indeed. Clark quickly went to check his other menus. Yes, he had everything in his inventory in both avatars. He also had all the information he normally had as a superhero, from his missions, to his friends list. However, when he looked closely, his own status (Superman’s) was listed as ‘inactive’. 

His heart started beating faster. 

This was- 

Clark always had his hang-ups with being recognized and attracting attention. (Probably as a result of the teasing he received from being found in a cornfield and adopted. There were still people in Smallville that had the article.) The issue was only exacerbated after becoming a micro-celebrity. 

He loved games though. Loved being able to wind down by playing a game. But he could only do that when he wasn’t recognized, which was getting rarer and rarer. Apparently he had a recognizable screenname and a surprisingly recognizable voice. He couldn’t just register under a different screen name either. S41838 was his brand, and even if he did play under a different name, if he chose to stream with that name or play with The Legion, then his cover would be immediately blown.

Being able to play a multiplayer game while being unknown was a freedom Clark hadn’t had for a long time. 

Clark immediately set out as Henry Cavill to see what it would be like playing as a civilian. Walking around, Clark tried not to look like a new civilian player, but he felt like a tourist again in The City seeing the world with new eyes. 

It was so different though. The missions came up like normal, but he wasn’t expected to step-in. In fact, an NPC stopped him the first time he tried, telling him to ‘let the superheroes handle it’. He can just ignore the missions. This was the first time he could explore the world without the interruption of missions. 

It was too bad that the other NPCs didn’t recognize him, particularly the ones he considered his friends. But that was fine. He could rebuild relationships, especially if he ended up using the disguise glasses more often. 

Then the screen started to shake. 

Clark’s avatar started to stumble. He panned the camera around, trying to find the source. 

His character stumbled against his will and Clark found himself looking straight up at the sky. There was debris raining down He managed to get his footing and stumble away. 

Immediately his screen was filled with more missions than he could count. Damn, he was closer than he thought to the new player area. A rookie in-game event must be happening. Clark was caught on the edge of it. 

Clark went to go help the people he could, not bothering to switch to his hero persona. Then the ground began to shake again. He went to go help someone who was trapped by fallen concrete, but a message stopped him:

“ _ Risk your disguise? _ ” 

That gave him pause. Did he want to...? 

But before he could decide, there was a crash, and Clark realized too late that he and the trapped civilian were both in danger of a falling building. 

Clark was about to take off his glasses- someone was in danger- when a hero appeared in front of them. 

“Don’t worry, I got you,” the hero said, easily taking care of the building. His metal suit of armor gleamed in the sunlight and a bright red cape waved behind him. A familiar looking ‘S’ stood out on the man’s chest. 

Clark couldn’t help but gape. It was Steel- John Henry. 

John/Steel carefully put down the building and continued to smile reassuringly at them. The civilian NPC that had been trapped, a young boy, looked up at Steel in wonder. Especially when the hero moved the concrete trapping him with a flick of his hammer. 

“Come on,” Steel continued in his warm, reassuring voice. “Let’s get the two of you somewhere safe.” 

The two of them?

Sure enough, Clark looked up and saw a phantom exclamation point above Henry Cavill’s head. He’s so surprised by the sight, he allowed himself to get herded away. The exclamation point disappeared once John led him to a safer zone. The ground rumbled and the kid stumbled. Clark steadied the boy, and Steel moved to steady the both of them. 

“I got this,” Clark said aloud, typing it into the chat box. Henry Cavill repeated the words, but it came out differently than normal. Calmer and lower with a little more of his accented twang. Huh. 

Before he could analyze that further, Steel moved away. “Thanks, citizen,” the hero said with a casual wave and went off to save more lives. 

Clark watched him go. One of his best friends didn’t recognize him as an NPC even when Henry Cavill had his voice and his fashion sense. The combination of the fact that ‘Superman’ wasn’t online and the NPC symbol in front of his name really did make it so he wasn’t recognized. 

Amazing. 

The disguise opened up a world of possibility. 


	3. Clark and Doomsday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags/Warnings: mentions of self-harm (not a main character)
> 
> Word Count: ~6.7k

_ [The video started. It was clearly shaky camera footage from a cell phone. The camera zoomed in on the back of a teenager. Said teenager leaned on the counter of the store, talking and staring at the menu. He didn’t notice that the cashier, a young woman, was starstruck.] _

_ “Is that Hiro Okamura?”  _

_ [The voice was quiet, but close. Most likely the camera person.]  _

_ [The camera moved, approaching the teen. The camera caught bits of whatever the teen was saying.] _

_ “..-ah, two extra large cups of whip cream, yup just whip. And you sell boxes of coffee right? I’ll buy everything you have in stock- aw wait, I take that back, I’ll buy all the boxes you can reasonably spare me at the moment.” _

_ [The cashier was wide-eyed.] _

_ “That’s still over two dozen boxes of coffee, if you don’t mind what blends they are.” _

_ “Over two dozen? Like they’re not that big though, right? Like, SunDollar boxes are mega tiny all things considering.”  _

_ “...Are you driving The Tank? Then, yes. They’re manageable.” _

_ “Ha! Yeah, I’m driving The Tank. I can fit all those units no problem. Tim alone can guzzle, like, five of those boxes in two minutes and that’s not even mentioning Barry.”  _

_ “Your order will take about 30 minutes, is that okay?” _

_ “Schway! Go for it. And you know what? Throw in like, five of each pastry you have, if it’s not too much trouble. I’ll take them in the wrappings too.” _

_ [The cashier started punching in the numbers, while two other SunDollar employees started filling the order. The employees are all different demographics, but they all seem to recognize the teenager.] _

_ “Your total will be $637.46.” _

_ [The teenager pulled out his wallet and started counting out a large wad of bills, all 20’s. He stuffed a huge chunk into the tip jar and then proceeded to give exact change to the cashier. All the employees turn to stare. The cash register gave a cheerful beep announcing that the payment was finished.]  _

_ “Thanks. Sorry for the trouble.” _

_ “No problem- Wait! Uh, can I get an autograph, Mr. Okamura?”  _

_ “Sure, sure.” _

_ [The cashier grabbed a fresh roll of receipt paper and the now confirmed Hiro “Toyman” Okamura started signing. When he finished about a dozen autographs for what looks to be all the employees, there was a SunDollar cart ready with his order. Before HO could leave, the cameraman called out to him.] _

_ “Hey, Toyman!”  _

_ [HO turned around.] _

_ “Tell us something cool about Injustice! Something you can’t say in an interview!” _

_ [HO immediately smirked.] _

_ “I can tell you what Tim definitely does not want to tell others.” _

_ [The cameraman said ‘nice’ as HO pulled himself together for a dramatic reveal.] _

_ “Listen. Injustice is a marvel of technology- ah, let me explain. I know we’re all worried about singularity for AI technology, but I think we’re still far beyond that point. You know, blah, blah, things aren’t advanced enough right now for that to happen. Okay, peeps?  _

_ “However, I do believe that this game is the first step in that direction. I’ve developed the technology and set my babies free, and now I’m going to let them go grow.  _

_ “That, my friends, is what is going to be so awesome about this game. It’s going to be unique because there’s going to be spontaneity and adventure in its continuing development. Even Tim and I don’t know how things are going to develop. That’s the beauty of AI.”  _

_ -Originally posted on Heart It  _

\-----

Clark tried not to go overboard with the Disguise Glasses. For one, anytime he used the glasses was time that he’s not streaming. For another, Clark tried to avoid his friends while they were playing. It wasn’t impossible, just difficult and he didn’t feel like lying to them if he didn’t have to. John had made no mention to Clark of a NPC look-alike, but Clark couldn’t be too careful. 

But with the time he had, he went all in for cultivating a NPC persona. 

Henry Cavill was a mild-mannered reporter (well, not yet, he was applying to a job at one of the mixed player/NPC journalist agencies), who came from a small town with the drawl to boot. Henry liked wearing ill fitting suits to work and tasteless flannel at home. And he had an apartment near his future office. (Thankfully, Clark had a lot of in-game currency to pay for rent.) 

Yes, Henry Cavill was his fantasy, but this character was supposed to be his time away from everything. He was allowed to dream. 

And he’s allowed to do things he normally couldn’t as a superhero, like build friendships with random players and NPCs, go sight-seeing without any responsibilities, gather information without being interrupted, solve missions quietly. So many things he wouldn’t have experienced when he’s LPing. The missions in particular were a game changer. There were tons of missions that could be solved without any powers or violence. They may not be as grand as hero or villain missions, but Clark got a lot of satisfaction from accomplishing them, especially when they helped people out. 

They were also profitable. He hadn’t noticed this as a superhero, but as a civilian he realized that the missions that gave out the most customizable rewards were personal requests from NPCs. A lot of superhero rewards were either monetary or specific to his skillset (boots for added defense against impacts, cape for aggro, something to improve his superstrength, etc). But there were rarely any missions that gave general skill points. 

However the NPCs gave out skill points like candy. (Literally like candy in some cases, handing them to one another like treats). And though one skill point wasn’t very much, even to a past beginner level player, added up they became quite hefty, especially when the player could choose the skill to add it to. 

With these skill points, Clark expanded his repertoire of skills. Like increased defense (he was hoping it would turn into true invulnerability soon), which meant his body was able to take more body enhancements. Super speed needed quite a balance of body improvements in order to be used effectively, which was almost not worth it for Clark’s character, but Darla Marvel had left quite an impression on him.

Clark also unlocked enhanced senses, which resulted in a mini-map for his display. That was THE MOST useful enhancements he’s ever had for the game. It showed his friends on the map, pending missions, and even random alerts that the game found important. With the enhanced senses, he could also buff the body parts associated with them. Like super eyes (odd description, but fitting), which lead to xray vision. 

With more areas to buff unlocked, Clark started receiving some other random abilities to go with them. He wasn’t sure he would have picked heat vision (a rather violent superpower to him), but that’s a skill he received from an NPC. (The NPC had been rather intense and Clark wondered if maybe the skills weren’t random and were picked out by the NPCs.) 

But the NPCs having strong personalities in-game was one of the reasons why Clark loved Injustice. 

\-----

“Hey guys! This is Bouncy here and I am online with The Legion of Superheroes! Legion, say hello!”

Bouncy waved to the stream as everyone dutifully said ‘hi’ in their most cheery of voices.

“Here we all are kicking off our Annual Legion Charity Stream! We’ve timed it just right so that it coincides with the annual Injustice in-game event! We are playing a full 72 hours! That’s right, three straight days of Legionnaires playing Injustice! And this year’s charity is near and dear to this Legionnaire’s heart: take it away, TimberWolf!” 

The camera switched over to a view of TimberWolf who nodded at the stream before speaking, “After much discussion, this year’s charity proceeds will go to my very own hometown, Gotham, which houses the Martha Wayne Foundation. As some of you may know, the Martha Wayne Foundation does a variety of charities in Gotham, but also donates to two nation-wide programs: Play for All, a charity which focuses on bringing entertainment such as books and games to children in hospitals, and Second Chance, a charity for foster children to find them homes and/or to help secure their futures.” 

TimberWolf’s lips curled up in a smile, and Clark can see the stream chat going crazy over the rare expression of happiness. 

“It’s a charity.. that I find very worthwhile. Thanks guys,” TimberWolf said gently. 

He actually started to look choked up and the camera switched quickly back to Bouncy, but not before the stream caught a glimpse of PhantomGrl reaching over to do- something for TimberWolf. 

_ Phantom/Timber 4ever _

_ Ohhh~ Brin baby come back _

_ They’re so cute! _

_ Want me a GF  _

The chat squealed with comments, but luckily, Bouncy was able to reign them in. 

“As you guys may know, we try to always up our charity record each year. Last year, we managed to raise an amazing $20,000! We’re going to try and beat it this year, and we’ll have tons of awards to entice you guys to throw money our way.”

A banner started to stream across the screen showing off the first tier of awards. 

“Okay! We do have a set amount of tiers and rewards, but don’t worry! You can suggest things in the chat and if they get popular enough we might do them anyways! Our first tier: for the first hour, donate money to the Legionnaires as they perform missions and whoever gets the most donations, gets to be the leader for the charity!” Bouncy called out. Another box appeared on screen, now starting the elapsed time for the stream. “Long live the Legion!” 

That was their cue. 

The stream switched to a view of Injustice. It was from Bouncy’s first-person point of view and he spun around slowly to show the Legionnaires gathering around him in a circle. Or at least they tried to. The circle wasn’t perfect, but it looked impressive from Bouncy’s camera view; all of them in their bright costumes and their matching customized accessories, all with an ‘L’ for the Legion on their person. 

“Looking good, team! Do you wanna say a few words before the competition starts?” Bouncy said, spinning around in another circle. 

“Competition? Who said anything about a competition?” ChameleonBoy piped up. 

“Ah!” Bouncy said, somewhat nefariously. “But we’re heroes aren’t we? As an added addendum to our little competition, viewers should only donate what they think is appropriate for the hero’s heroics, so to speak. So, Legionnaires? Let’s do some good! Start!” 

They all spread out and disconnect from the group call.

They were starting in The City because it rarely had any PVP or violent events in the territory. It made it easier to accomplish their first event: to be as heroic as possible. They had chosen the theme since the donations would end up going to charities for children. 

But Clark knew that the audience was fickle. They had different ideas on what was heroic, and even with Bouncy’s addendum, there were surely donors who would give to their favorite Legionnaires no matter what the hero was doing. No matter, Clark would do what he did best. 

He checked his mini-map and started moving towards the closest mission. 

“My brother’s stuck in a tree!” The civilian squeaked, an exclamation point over her head. 

Clark and his avatar sighed. These two kids got in trouble all the time in The City. Every player knew them. “We’ve spoken about this, Pxy. You guys shouldn’t purposely put yourself in trees to get someone's attention.” 

Pyx glared at him at the lecture, while Mxy waved from his spot in the tree.

“Well, we were just having fun,” Mxy said with a grin. 

Clark rolled his eyes, glad the NPCs can’t see him do so. He didn’t know how these two got their personalities, but he figured that if they were programmed to cause mischief their personalities would warp to match. 

For probably the 200th time (the game kept a log of a player’s accomplished missions), Superman climbed up to help the child down from the tree. The mission was accomplished once Mxy was on the ground, but he took the time to walk them to their parents (perfectly normal NPCs who didn’t put themselves in danger). That way they wouldn’t get into any more trouble (for now). 

He looked at the chat and they cheered him on. Although some of them were surprised that he devoted so much of his hour on such an easy mission. Clark explained aloud that that’s just how he was with missions and that’s heroism to him; helping people and seeing things through. (Even if it meant that he wasn’t likely to win leadership.) 

Now that he thought about it, maybe he should have concentrated on some interesting heroic missions, if only to drum up more donations for the stream. Ah well, he’ll do more exciting things later to make up for it. 

When Bouncy called time, Clark joined his fellow Legionnaires with only a few missions accomplished. 

“Okay! Let's do a round-up and check those numbers,” Bouncy said. “Go ahead and share with the stream some of your most interesting missions.”

“I rescued a cat out of a tree today,” Clark offered.

That got a laugh out of the Legionnaires like he hoped. 

“Aww, that’s so sweet. I never get missions like that,” SaturnGal said. 

“Didn't you save part of The City from a zoo breakout?” Brainy asked.

“Well, yes. But that was very stressful.”

“.. Even though you got to pet the animals afterwards?”

“Yes. Especially after some of the animals tried to take me out.”

“Fair enough.” 

The other Legionnaires started talking about their own missions. Clark kept a smile on, but noted that his missions couldn’t compare. 

“I stopped an assassin from killing the mayor.”

“I speed-delivered a case of vaccines to a clinic.”

“I carried a pregnant woman to the hospital.”

“I set up a workshop to help others with their taxes.”

The conversation paused. The Legionnaires turn to Brainy. 

“Er, I have to ask, who did you help with your taxes?” Someone asked. 

“Civilians, of course.”

“..NPCs?”

“It started with NPCs-”

“That was an actual quest?” 

“-No. It was to help them with money issues. But after some analysis, I realized that helping them with their taxes would be beneficial, which attracted enough attention that some players asked me for help.”

“...”

“Okay, does Brainy win the weirdest mission of the day?”

Everybody said yes. 

The chat was exploding with requests for Brainy to help them with their taxes. Clark wasn’t surprised. Clark can personally attest to Brainy’s skill with legalese as Clark had shamelessly in the past asked for Brainy’s help with his own finances. He wasn’t the only Legionnaire to do so. 

Brainy promised the stream that he would do a How-To video as long as they reached the first tier of donations. The stream thanked him profusely and the tips of his ears turned red. He quickly asked the Legionnaires about their missions, effectively changing the conversation topic. 

They were talking about which mission could be considered the most heroic when Bouncy popped back into the stream. 

“Hey guys, I’m back!”

“Hey, Bouncy!”

Bouncy’s avatar came back to life and started walking around the group. 

“So I have the numbers in, and I think everyone will be interested in hearing the results,” Bouncy said, rubbing his hands (almost maniacally). 

“That interesting, huh?” LightningLad said. 

“Oh yeah. Give me a drumroll guys.”

There was the sound of tapping on desks and the chat exploded with drum roll comments. 

Bouncy cleared his throat:

“In third place, we have a tie! It’s between Brainiac5 and TimberWolf!” 

“I guess some people thought doing taxes is on par with the other missions we do.”

“Maybe they donated all that money they saved to Brainy’s stream.”

“Ha! Maybe!” 

The banter flew back and forth, until Bouncy made a fake trumpet noise, calming down the conversation. 

“Dun dun dun! Announcing our second place! It’s.. PhantomGrl!”

“No surprise there. You did manage to save the mayor from a badass assassin.”

“Thanks!” 

They congratulated PhantomGrl and she told them a little more about her quest, but the chat started getting impatient waiting to hear about the winner. Bouncy sent a private DM to the group to move the conversation towards the winner of their first tier. They obliged. 

“For our last announcement, the winner of our first tier, and the leader of the Legionnaires-”

Bouncy paused for effect. 

“Our very own.. S! Otherwise known as Superman!!!” 

What. 

Clark had been rather removed from the whole conversation, chipping in when he had something to add, but not one for the spotlight if it wasn’t forced on him. He could be the star of his own stream (and wasn’t that a change from when he first started this business) and this event was for charity and the Legion as a whole. So being called out like this, well, the first thing that came out of his mouth was:

“Pardon?” 

There were other similar sounds of confusion (although thankfully, no outrage) among the Legionnaires. 

There were some sounds of clicking on Bouncy’s end. “Let’s take a look at the stats shall we? Out of  _ all _ the Legionnaires, S had the most donations from different accounts. And the most unique! There were actually a lot of first time donors in his stream today. That also explained why he had the most of the smallest denomination donations too.” 

Clark was dumbfounded. Him? With the most unique donors and first time donors? He had thanked everyone in the stream that donated and noticed quite a few unique names, but that was the nature of these Legion events. He hadn’t thought he had  _ the  _ most. 

“However, the largest donation that had put S over the top had actually slipped in pretty quietly by the end of the hour, leaving no time for S to read it aloud. But let’s backtrack a little.

“Just a warning, triggers for self-harm, but when S had devoted his time to taking NPC civilian missions, he had unlocked a special mission. Because he was friends with the NPC, the NPC civilian asked for S’ help with a friend that had locked themself up and was potentially about to hurt themself. S provided a security blanket (metaphorically speaking) so that the first NPC could talk down the one about to hurt themself. S was not only a reassuring presence for the NPCs, but could also take action if the situation called for it. (Luckily it hadn’t.)

“Apparently one of S’ followers had tweeted about the incident, which had caused S to also have the largest viewer following during the event, which in turn probably led to the donations. 

“So jumping back to the generous donor. They sent the message along with a $500 dollar donation, as follows: 

“ ‘Thanks for caring about everyone, even the ones that people wouldn’t think to’. “

“And that’s what happened,” Bouncy said. 

The chat was pretty silent afterwards and Clark was happy that no one could see him turn red from the reveal. He hadn’t done it for attention. It was.. just a part of being a person here in the game. That was why he wanted to play a hero. He could help everybody and it wouldn’t be thought of as strange. 

“I couldn’t think of anyone else that would be a better team leader for our charity stream tonight,” SaturnGal said, warmly. 

The others agreed and Bouncy proclaimed S their team leader. The chat and the Legionnaires returned to normal as Bouncy started to move on with their itinerary (thank god). 

The next part of the agenda was to do missions in each territory until the event started. Clark, S, would decide the territories. Clark decided they would do a circle, saving The City for last. 

Thankfully being the leader was mostly for show. Clark made a few decisions, but their stream had a schedule to follow which Bouncy (and the fans) were controlling and enforcing. Clark’s main job was to chat with the stream and make decisions based on what he saw. It’s similar enough to a normal stream. 

The stream continued with a mix of missions and charity events, sometimes together. They do everything from singing songs, to having to speak in pig-Latin during missions, to even asking NPCs on dates. (And getting shot down. CosmicBoy had been miffed when that happened.) 

During their fun, a countdown played on all of the TVs in-game, talking about the world-wide unveiling of the new protection units that will help out superheroes. Whenever a new broadcast revealed more information, the Legionnaires made bets about what the units would look like. 

When they came back to The City, the countdown finished and what looked like a live interview started on screen. A few civilians stopped to watch, but most went about their day like normal. The Legionnaires did the same. Some stopped to watch, while others continued to take a few small missions here and there. 

On screen, the lead scientists for the project droned on and on about their scientific achievement, but nothing really exciting happened- 

Until the lightning started. 

A bolt of light struck down in the middle of The City. The Legionnaires don’t even get to react before a resounding crack of thunder went through the territory so hard that it knocked players and NPCs alike off their feet. 

S squinted (actually squinted! It must have been an automatic reaction from the game) at the point of the blast. There was still a giant column of lightning pouring down from the sky and a lightning storm started in the surrounding areas. 

That direction was definitely where the Sun Facilities was located, where the new protection units were being made. 

His minimap started populating with red exclamation points and red alerts like crazy. Clark stopped thinking about the lightning and went to go help people. 

The Legion quickly mobilized, with Bouncy calling out the shots and Clark adding in commentary based on what he could see on the minimap. They quickly moved civilians out of the way and started moving things that were in the way of foot traffic. 

Normally the group would be all over getting into the thick of things, but the lightning’s effects were too severe and far-reaching. A third of their group was dedicated to redirecting and absorbing the lightning alone. 

They’ve only gotten half the civilians evacuated when the lightning started to calm down. 

It was silent, and the world paused to see if the sky was going to continue to fall down. 

One of the television screens on the side of a building flickered to life. 

“This is Amy Adams here-  _ cshh _ \- on the scene-” static and nothing but a low hum, “-tists activated the creation chamber. It looks _ ssss _ like the epicenter was in fact Sun Facilities. Take a look.”

The camera panned over to the smoking crater of a building. What used to be all glass and chrome, was now twisted metal and burnt remains. Black smoke rose into the air, darkening the sky. 

Without anyone talking it became clear how quiet it was. The City was normally filled with the sound of cars and people, but there was nothing now. There was only the shuffle of the cameraman to break up the eerie silence. 

“Wait,” Amy’s voice came out in a hushed whisper. “What is that?”

The smoke in the middle moved. 

Someone (something) came out of the smoke. The figure looked human, but- no. The height was all wrong and the shoulders were so large and- as it came closer to the camera, it was clear the proportions weren’t right. It could be a person in a suit of armor, but the way it moved felt too organic. When the smoke cleared, what came out was what could only be described as a monster. 

A hulking behemoth, all grey organic matter and hard, dark eyes. 

It started to move forward in a flash, but was beat back by a flash of red. 

Billy Marvel looked back at the camera and yelled, “Get out of here!”

The cameraman didn’t need to be told twice and started running away (although the camera was still on and turned toward the action). Other heroes and villains went to assist with the monster, but they were brushed away. The Shazam family was quick to catch them, but there were so many players being brushed away that they couldn’t fight the monster. 

The camera panned back to the reporter, “As you can see, everyone is trying to contain the mysterious being that came out of the rubble. We’re getting reports from other territories that similar monsters have been attacking the region-” The screen flickered and produced blurry images of several other monsters in the different territories, “It looks like- Watch out!” 

She dashed towards the camera man and the camera jerked upwards. There was a glimpse of rubble and a body flew through a building. Thankfully, (or not,) the person was unmistakably Billy Marvel, probably one of the only characters durable enough to take an attack of that magnitude and survive. 

The camera panned away unsteadily and began to presumably walk away from the destruction, following the other civilians. 

“Wait,” Amy said. 

The camera started to zoom in on one point, before focusing on a man wearing a labcoat. The camera shook, the camera was coming closer to the man and kept up as the group still evacuated. 

“Excuse me. Amy Adams with The Star, aren’t you one of the scientists in Sun Facilities that was working on the new protection units?” Amy asked. 

The man’s face, which looked thin and worn, went blank at the question. Surprisingly though, he answered. “Yes. I was one of the main scientists in The City’s branch.” 

“Can you tell us more about the.. The monster that has come out?”

“Armageddon.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Project Armageddon is what we named these- these  _ things _ . They were meant to be the end of all our problems, able to protect and serve our territories. We named them silly things like Ice Age,” that was probably the elemental type monster in another territory, “Horseman,” a shifting monster with four forms that was in The Lab, “...and Doomsday was for The City.” 

The man’s face turned crestfallen. “They were just names,” he muttered. 

“Well, I’m not surprised they turned out this way if they looked like  _ that _ during development,” Amy said, her voice sharp. She always did say what was on everybody’s mind. 

“They didn’t though! They were just robots, humanoid in shape. A little stylistic depending on their powers, not too uncanny valley, but humanoid enough that people could project humanity onto them. They weren’t supposed to be monsters!” 

His voice rang out a little too loudly and he glanced back in terror. The camera followed his sightline and they saw Doomsday putting down people left and right. None of them show the telltale sign of death...

And then Clark realized that Doomsday was  _ toying  _ with them. 

Not if the Legion could help it. 

They finished up evacuating and started heading to the site. 

“S, Brainy, give me the low-down on Doomsday,” Bouncy called out.

Clark checked his minimap. “Doomsday has moved a lot from his initial position. He’s been going back and forth, almost hitting No Man’s Land territory. I think he’s meeting to engage with players.”   
  


“I do believe your hypothesis is correct, S,” Brainy said as he tapped into the available cameras near the site. “He charges whenever he sees someone to engage.”

“Right,” Bouncy looked at his screen intensely, “let’s use that. S, you have the best defense, so you and I will help tank. PhantomGrl and TimberWolf, have the best ability for distraction. Brainy and SaturnGal have the best environmental visuals and will also try to distract the monster. Starman, you’re the main support. Use your powers to adjust Doomsday’s path so we don’t take any direct hits. Everyone else, you’re on offense. Make sure to communicate where you’re attacking and if you need set-up for an attack. Let’s go! Long live the Legion!” 

“Long live the Legion!” The group cried out. 

They quickly enacted their plan to great effect. Clark saw Doomsday about to strike another hero and used a speed burst (he informed the rest of the team that he did that, the cool down was long and he wouldn’t be able to do it again for a while) to punch Doomsday in the face. 

Doomsday moved back- but then caught himself, turning those malevolent red eyes in S’ direction. 

Uh oh. 

Doomsday charged and Clark barely managed to hotkey in a deflection. The next strike came from behind and it was only due to the TImberWolf and PhantomGrl’s combination that he was able to not take a direct hit. His health bar dipped dramatically for only a slight blow. 

“Guys, I took over 500 HP from that one blow!” Clark said out loud. At the corner of his eye, Clark can see his chat exploding with comments, but he has to keep his eye on the screen and his cool-downs. Any more hits and he’ll die. 

“Okay, let’s do evasive maneuvers! Damage dealers stand by and hit fast and hard, don’t let yourself be a target!” Bouncy said. 

Everybody was quick to go and get their hit in, and when they attracted too much attention, the distractors and tanks were quick to jump in and aggro. It was only due to their teamwork and their past missions working together could they combo so well. They fought on, techniques and buffs were used, cooldowns were calculated, and they kept delivering attack after attack. 

Other heroes and villains jumped in, but many of them got hit for their efforts. Without being in the Legion call, there was no way for the Legionnaires (for S) to help them. Thankfully, the Shazam Family was there to swoop in and save them before they died. 

At one point, the Shazam family even tag-teamed with Wonder Woman to fight Doomsday and there was an amazing cut-scene that all of them watched and were even interacting with. 

But still, they didn’t manage to defeat Doomsday. 

(Brainy whispered that they were most likely waiting for a player to land the final blow.)

The cut-scene ended. They rushed in, cooldowns finished, buffs started, and a strategy ready to go. They landed blow after blow. 

“My speed rush cooldown ended,” Clark said, his voice hoarse after talking for so long. He’s said this phrase dozens of times during this event.

Immediately, everybody maneuvered to accommodate him and his next attack. The team buffed him, some of them distracted Doomsday, then they cleared a path. Clark only took a split second to line up his attack-

Then S moved. 

The sound of the punch seemed to echo and this time, there was a weight to the punch that Clark can almost feel through the screen. Doomsday flew back in a way he hadn’t before and he groaned. The players fall silent as Doomsday landed on the ground. 

No one made a move. 

No one can make a move, the game froze as Doomsday didn’t get back up. 

Bright bold letters flash on the screen 

**Doomsday DEFEATED!!!**

The body started to flicker and a cut scene started. Wonder Woman and the Shazam Family congratulated S (and his compatriots), before heading out to help the other territories. 

Then Amy Adams came onto the screen, approaching S. She’s lovely, even when bedraggled and dirty (especially so, because Clark has always admired Amy for her dedication to journalism and news reporting) and Clark watched her before realizing that she was coming over to interview him. However, S was locked in place and Clark realized he couldn’t avoid the interview. 

Amy brought up her microphone.

“Congratulations, Superman, for defeating Doomsday. I know I can speak for all the citizens in saying that we appreciate what you’ve done. Do you have a comment for The City?” 

Dear god, okay, Clark bent down and started typing. He hoped that everyone in the territory wasn’t waiting for him to answer. 

“I want to thank everyone for stepping in to help during the disaster,” onscreen, S dutifully repeated Clark’s words solemnly (a little more seriously than Clark would have). “Everyone who helped out, whether it was helping people to evacuate, to fighting against Doomsday, are all heroes today.” 

Ugh. That sounded a little.. high-handed. Not exactly the soft-encouragement Clark was going for. He wished he could at least make his character smile a little, but he was stuck. Well, at least it suited the mood. 

Amy gave him a look that said she was surprised over his words. She continued to ask him a few questions, subtly grilling him so she could get a proper interview. Clark continued to type up answers as fast as he could (he could see the other players getting impatient in the background even as the Legionnaires cheered him on in the call) and they eventually finished up. 

The cut scene ended and the Legionnaires all swarmed S. 

Immediately Clark’s chat log started blowing up with messages:

_ Final Blow to DoomsDay _

_ Increased rewards: 100,000 experience and $10,000 received. Doomsday broadcast has hit all airing stations.  _

_ -Level up! _

_ -Level up! _

_ -Level up! _

_ -Durability increased! _

_ -Stamina increased! _

_ -Mastery of heat vision increased! _

_ -Body enhancement skill tree expanded! _

_ -Superman has become a household name in The City.  _

“All right, Superman!” The Legionnaires cheered for him. Clark laughed, their happiness infectious, and he started congratulating the whole team. 

Soon, the other Armageddon monsters were defeated and the whole game was in a bombastic uproar over the first world event. When the top rankers were revealed, the Legion celebrated being the top scorers of the event in The City territory. 

They kept their good cheer even as they helped clean up the territories. Luckily there hadn’t been any loss to the people, NPCs or civilians (just a lot of environmental damage). The feelings buoyed them through the stream (inciting many a dare and quite a lot of dumb activity) and through to the after-party. 

Quite often the stream or the chat started a Superman chant and Clark had an embarrassed chuckle each time. Surprisingly, he was fine with the good-natured teasing and his good mood had him enjoying being the center of attention. It had something to do with the fact that he was playing with the Legionnaires, who he loved and helping the charity stream, which was doing so well, and it felt like this was one of the best days he had in awhile. Everything about the day was reminding him why he loved being a Let’s Player. 

Little did Clark know that Doomsday’s defeat was one of the tipping points for his character. 

And his life.

\-----

After the stream, Clark’s viewership exploded. He had been rather popular beforehand (enough to make a living), but the additional numbers were unprecedented. Clark was reassured by the fact that all the Legionnaires who participated in the stream had an increase in subscribers, but his numbers definitely had the biggest change. 

Thankfully, the huge jump in subscribers did not reflect the number of viewers of his streams. It meant that Clark could keep his personable chat streams. However, he did get an increase in views for his recorded videos. 

Unfortunately, he did eventually get some odd questions in his streams from viewers he didn’t recognize. At first, he thought he was being trolled, but found that his viewers were also curious:

_ How did you get this ability?  _

_ Why is your level so high?  _

_ Has your reputation affected your gameplay?  _

The questions were different from his usual ones. To his knowledge, most people had his stream in the background and tended to ask him his personal opinion rather than questions about gameplay. These questions were like the ones that Bouncy or Brainy would receive. 

Clark answered them to the best of his ability, but his answers never seemed to satisfy the askers. 

(He wondered if it had something to do with his ability to play as the NPC Henry Cavill. He didn't feel guilty about not streaming or recording that footage, but he didn’t know how to explain without revealing that other side of his Injustice life. He needed to be able to have his own time that wasn’t devoted to being in front of an audience.) 

After a while though, Clark could understand where those questions were coming from. Clark’s character, S, got a new experience boost that had the character improving at an alarming rate. It was the change in S’s durability and also his new flight ability. Where once he had to worry about his timing and dodging, his newfound defense meant that he didn’t have to worry too much about taking hits. With his flight, he could accomplish more missions faster and more effectively. 

It put him in a different class than some other heroes and was much closer to say… the territory controllers. 

S was still a far cry from them, but to those who hadn’t seen the territory heroes fight before they sometimes mistook S for one. That had happened once or twice with new players joining the game. Clark always laughed off the mistake. The territory controllers had so much over him: speed, ability, knowledge, and a perfect control of their abilities. Clark could barely control the output of his abilities, let alone use them for something useful. 

But months passed and he steadily improved. And when he improved, he could see the gap grow between his character and others. It’s less obvious with the Legionnaires, many of which are game-playing professionals who were implementing optimized strategies to level up. But when S encountered other players, it was very obvious. 

And as S improved, Clark found himself with more and more viewers and not of the nice variety, but of the ‘trying to find out his play strategy even though Clark said that he didn’t have anything to say to them’. They kept pestering him (which made him even more appreciative of his time as Henry Cavill). 

Clark tried to be patient. More viewers meant more revenue and although it wasn’t the audience he wanted, after banning the worst ones, they weren’t too bad. Just intense. 

They came back with a vengeance when S eventually won a piece of territory for himself. There was an uproar, even though it was just a small piece of the territory, just a few blocks of The City, close to the border of No Man’s Land. (Henry Cavil’s apartment was in the area). But it was his. 

Clark didn’t know how he did it, but one day he checked his minimap and the territory was no longer in the Shazam family colors with their signature lightning bolt symbol. Instead the area was in his own bright primary colors and S symbol over it. 

He was instantly flooded by questions in stream, in-game, and even by his friends. His answers didn’t satisfy the strangers (or his friends, but they backed off when he didn’t have an answer for him) and his gameplay was further put under a microscope. He was having trouble enough as it was without being examined. There was no guide to being a territory hero and he had to quickly learn so that the people in his territory didn’t suffer under his responsibility. 

Clark enjoyed his time more and more as Henry Cavill and greedily protected it. Especially because he could gather information about his territory much more easily as an NPC than as S. 

The distance between him and the other players (who weren’t his friends) grew. 

But he still played, because he loved the game, loved his little territory (which he mentally named Metropolis) , loved the NPCs, loved the Legion, and the other players he managed to befriend (despite his oddly growing reputation that was out of his hands). 

Clark thought that everything would have been fine, that others would also soon gain control of a territory and bump him out of the spotlight. He was confident that things would change. This would be his five seconds of fame in his LP career before someone else quickly became the center of attention. 

That is, until Zero Day. 


	4. Clark and Zero Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags/Warnings: video-game violence, people dying in game, pretty much Zero Day from the man of steel movie
> 
> Word Count: ~5.1k

_ GAME UPDATE: XX-XX-XXXX _

_ Change Log #.#.### _

  * _Bug testing team went through all the play areas and addressed all instances where players are being caught in the environment with no way out (added NPCs to help, puzzles, changed environment, etc.)_


  * Adjust color packs in different areas for better contrast (No Man’s Land) 


  * Added more color options for personal accessories and appearances 


  * Refined voice capture options (in-game voices should be more refined if more input data is added)


  * “Issue” with NPCs affecting player gameplay <link here>



_ [Clicking on the link leads to a utube video from the official Injustice channel. The video uploaded is labeled “NPCs and What Their Deal Is”. The video starts, revealing Victor Stone, one of the faces of the Injustice development team.] _

_ “Hey guys, this is Cyborg, with another update for you about Injustice.” _

_ [Cyborg looks at the camera wryly.] _

_ “The game has only been out for a week now, and the team is hard at work catching as many bugs, or as Toyman calls them, ‘flavor additions’, in the game as possible. The servers aren’t overloaded, which is very impressive, thanks Wayne Tech, but if there is a bug, players will find a way to walk into them. Literally.  _

_ “Our teams are hard at work catching every bug they can, but we appreciate the help that the players have done, by sending in detailed tickets of their own.” _

_ [The man’s face turns a little more considering and he looks off camera as if staring at something in the distance.] _

_ “However, we’ve noticed that there are some consistent tickets out there that people have been sending in. Namely: about the NPCs.”  _

_ [Cyborg gives them a look.] _

_ “We warned you, guys.”  _

_ [The man shakes his head.]  _

_ “The NPCs have a life of their own and can affect the game in every way. So yes, they are given full ability to: give you money, get you a quest, give you experience or rare items. But on the flip side, they can take away power, or tweak your superpower, or generate rumours about your backstory.” _

_ [The man smiles again.] _

_ “That’s the beauty of the game. Every interaction that you have with an NPC like that? You may never have again, even if you played the game exactly the same way. So to address everybody’s concerns, if the team has determined that what happened was not a bug? We are not going to go and ‘fix’ any issues that players have had with NPCs. I know, I know, this may cause a lot of trouble for some of you, but it’s a whole new gaming world out there in Injustice, so just enjoy it. _

_ “Even us developers don’t know what the NPCs are going to do, but isn’t that the best part of Injustice?” _

_ \----- _

Zero Day. 

The day didn’t have a name before, but when the developers uttered the name, the players immediately latched on to it. 

The day started like any other, until it didn’t. 

An odd warning came across the news channels all over the game, declaring a foreign object entering the atmosphere. The NPCs worried, while the players excitedly chattered. Something this odd could only be a game event. 

There had been enough events that the players realized any event was a good event. They added a lot to the game and provided some great rewards. There hadn’t been any news from the developers about this one, but the game makers were always doing something new. The players didn’t think anything strange was going on. It was special that they weren’t forewarned. 

Clark had been playing as Henry Cavill in his territory when the news came on, startling the NPCs in his area. As a result, there were a lot of quests from them and he did his best to help them out. The quests were all inconsequential in nature; help deliver things, retrieve an item, send a message- it was almost like the NPCs were preparing for something, but they didn’t know what. Although, there were some of the NPCs who scoffed at the behavior. 

Clark wanted to reassure the NPCs who were worried and gladly ran the quests as Henry Cavill without any Legion help. 

So he, like many others, was unprepared when a spaceship crash landed into The City. 

But before that happened, all the tv stations were taken over and Clark was just one of the many that stared up at the screens. They flickered with static then went dark. Then they flickered back on, but instead of the news a pure white screen was all that came on. Eventually words blinked on the screens:

YOU ARE NOT ALONE 

A man’s voice, calm and deep, started to come out of the speaker. “You are not alone.”

Over and over, the screens flickered with the words, the same phrase and in different languages. And over and over the same man’s voice would repeat the words. 

“You are not alone.”

“You are not alone.” 

“You are not alone. You are not alone. You are not alone-“ 

Clark peeled his eyes away from his monitor even as his character continued to stare at the screens in-game. However, he could still hear the voice, repeating ‘you are not alone’ over and over, almost soothingly to the audience that was the whole game. Despite the words and the soothing tone, it was a little disturbing. Clark only turned back when the chanting stopped. 

The screen was bright white again and it flickered only once before a shadowy figure appeared on screen, too blurry to make out any details. 

“My name is General Zod,” the voice said. It was the calm yet firm voice of the man from before. The man, General Zod, continued:

“I come from a world far from yours and I have journeyed across an ocean of stars,” he said, his story instantly captivating Clark. Could it be? 

The man continued his story:

“For some time, your world has sheltered one of my citizens. I request that you return this individual to my custody.” 

The NPCs around him burst into curious whispers at the words. 

“For reasons unknown, they have chosen to keep their existence a secret from you. They will look like you, but they are not one of you. To those of you who may know of their current location, the fate of your planet rests in your hands. To Kal-El, I say this: Surrender within 1 hour or watch this world suffer the consequences.” 

The screen blinked out.

After a moment, the carefully held silence of the world is shattered as the NPCs start to openly talk about what happened. ‘A man from a planet far from here,’ an alien? And there were other aliens here in the area? Just what did the speaker mean?

Henry Cavill didn’t participate in the conversations. 

Clark frowned at the screen. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach that won’t go away. 

This was.. A very intense in-game event. 

He wondered which one of the territory controllers was going to be the alien. It sounded like the sort of twist Hiro Okamura would put in one of his games. Besides, from the very beginning there were many territory controllers that didn’t have very well-defined backstories. It made sense to flesh them out during an in-game event. He was very interested to find out who the alien was.

Wonder Woman, Cyborg, Aquaman, and Mera’s backstories had been explained in pretty heavy detail so it wasn’t them. It seemed unlikely to be any of the Shazam Family if there was only one alien. 

He supposed it could have been any one of the others, although his best guess would be Batman. The hero’s backstory was practically unknown to all players. He was the most mysterious without even a hint as to his background and there was a whole wiki page dedicated to the rumors gathered about the character. There were theories that Batman’s gothic powers were an indication of magic later being introduced in the game (Clark could see that one), to the theory that he had no powers (which seemed unlikely, the hero was quite impressive). It seemed logical that Batman could be the alien. 

On the other hand...

While players had a modicum of control of their backstory, the game (with the help of NPCs), often helped fill in the gaps. It made the game special in a way, people having backstories that only that character would have. 

This event, however, was on such a bigger scale than what Clark was used to. (Yes, even Clark who had his hero name changed to ‘Superman’.) Being declared an alien by the game was certainly a bold move on the developers part. 

Who was the one named ‘Kal-El’?

\-----

Within a few moments, the screens came back to life. 

It was a blank screen and after awhile, people stopped watching it and started up their lives again. Though everyone was occasionally sneaking peeks at the screens. More missions popped up in S’ minimap and Clark continued to finish them. He didn’t get many of them accomplished; everyone wanted to gossip about the potential ‘alien’ in their midst. 

Surprisingly, his name, Superman’s name, came up as a potential candidate. But Clark shrugged it off because it wasn’t only his name, but every high ranking character in the area. He didn’t let it bother him. 

During his missions, the television screens came back again, showing the news. The foreign object that had entered their atmosphere got closer and turned into a futuristic spaceship, dark with rounded edges and sharp points. The distance made it look like the ship was moving slowly, but it was obvious that the ship was getting closer and closer to the planet. The minutes ticked by, winding down the awaited hour. 

People held their breath once the hour passes. 

Nothing happened. 

The ship floated in space.

Then- small dots appeared on the side of the ship. Then they grew closer and it was all too clear that these were smaller vessels hurtling towards the ground. They were sleek pods flying in formation before breaking apart to land, one aimed at each territory and the Ice Zone. (A special area only open for missions and events.) 

The cameras follow each one, switching perspectives between the different territories. People run out of the way, but the pods land softly without causing any damage. They were beautiful up close, all chrome with gold trim made of an unidentifiable metal. The one that landed in The City landed precariously close to S’ territory. 

Everybody was mesmerized when as one, the tops of the pods slid open, revealing- humans. Or what looked like humans. They were all beautiful, in a severe sort of way, with matching black form-fitting armor. They could have been wearing superhero costumes, except the uniformity of their outfits, their demeanor, and the way they came out of the sky- it all screamed alien military invasion. But if that were the case, then why come with so little people? What were they waiting for?

The man that came out of The City’s pod took a step forward, his gaze immediately zeroing onto the cameraman. 

“You are broadcasting,” he said. A statement, not said with confidence, but with a finality that brokered no argument. 

The camera dipped slightly; the cameraperson nodded. 

The man turned to face the camera. The camera zoomed in. The man had a serious middle-age face. His hair was short and sensible, along with short cropped facial hair. His gaze burned through the camera. 

“My name is General Zod.”

Clark jolted, realizing that this was the man from before, the one who issued the ultimatum. It was a little difficult to reconcile that stranger with this man, but as he continued speaking, Clark could see the same confidence and bone-deep sureness in this man. 

“We have come for you Kal-El,” the man started, “and have realized why you have come here. Your cells have drunk the land’s radiation, strengthening your muscles, your skin, your senses. The land's gravity is weaker, yet its atmosphere is more nourishing. You have grown strong, and the only way for you to grow stronger is to keep testing your limits. Have you found your limits here Kal-El?”

Clark’s stomach sank as General Zod smiled at the camera. 

“You are here, are you not Kal-El? Gaining a reputation for being strong? That is good,” the general said. His voice would be gentle if he didn’t sound so condescending. “But we want you to come back to your people, Kal-El. Come back and be a Kryptonian, because that is what you are. And here is where we’ll build New Krypton.”

Clark didn’t even get to really take that in before the cut-scene ends and someone yells, “Take this alien scum!” 

A player, a villain maybe (Clark didn’t recognize them) surged forward. On screen, General Zod was calm and easily side-stepped the attack before returning his own. It was just a backhand, but the player was flung off to the side. The camera followed their path and the player crashed into the building. 

Their body lay limp, half out of the building. Above their body, flashed the word: DEAD. 

Clark gaped. 

That was- it wasn’t rare for players to die, but it wasn’t easy, and normally they didn’t get downed after one hit. 

The camera turned back to Zod who was wrecking everyone that came his way. He killed player after player, and even a few NPCs who came after him. 

_ Super strength.  _

Zod dealt blow after blow, littering The City with characters who lay still, all with the fatal word DEAD above their prone forms. 

At one point, a hero with super speed came forth. People cheered as it looked like they avoided the blow, but after a moment of analysis Zod was able to handle them too, calmly and with mastery. 

_ Enhanced speed.  _

Characters rained bullets and other projectile attacks on the general, but most, if not all, do no damage. 

_ Durability.  _

The camera switched to the other territories, where the other Kryptonians were displaying similar powers and more: 

_ Enhanced senses.  _

_ Flight. _

_ Heat vision. _

Clark’s stomach turned as he realized what this meant. Their similar powers, the similar looks to his avatar, the fact that General Zod landed in The City close to his territory, it was no coincidence. 

S was Kal-El. 

\-----

Clark finished up the mission he was on and started moving closer to the spaceship. There were already people evacuating and getting in his way. It was a sea of exclamation points that appeared and disappeared. 

Clark ran around trying to find a place to change Henry back into S. 

But while he was doing so, he couldn’t escape the screens that were showing the devastation taking place. Territory after territory, characters were being defeated left and right. 

Then the screens flipped back to the sight of the mothership, deploying more pods. More attackers? They could barely contend with one per territory. 

But as the news came in, it turned out these new crafts were terraforming ships. None of them landed in the territories, but when they started drilling, everyone could feel the sudden impact. The ground began to shake and the gravity shifted. 

The territory controllers quickly went to destroy them, but were held back by a wave of Kryptonians and the device’s natural defenses. 

The players could expect no help from the territory controllers in this event. 

In an empty alleyway, Henry Cavill changed into the superhero S, Superman. The hero quickly sped to Zod, even though mission alerts were popping up on his minimap everywhere. He passed by the dead bodies of NPCs and players. Clark gritted his teeth at the sight, hating the fact that he was ignoring those in need.

But he knew he had to go to the root of the problem. Clark didn’t know what he would do, but maybe S’ presence would stop Zod from this senseless killing. 

When he finally arrived, the surrounding area had been decimated. There was a hole where the city-scape was, completely demolished of anything but bare concrete. 

General Zod was standing in the middle of it all, calm and serene. 

He was waiting for him. 

“Kal-El,” he said and Clark hated the sound of the name. “Or should I say Superman?” He hated how the man said that name too. 

“S is fine,” Clark typed and his character dutifully repeated it. He didn’t know how to feel anymore about the names that were given to him. They felt tainted by this villain. At least he still had his chosen name, S, for himself. 

“S,” Zod said disapprovingly, shaking his head. “I see you have integrated quite completely with this world. But tell me, do you know anything about the one you belong to?”

“No,” S said, because he didn’t. 

“Then let me show you,” and they were both whisked into a cut scene. 

Zod opened his hand and out came a sphere that started projecting the history of Krypton:

Krypton was a race of travelers and scientists who learned and grew as far as they could. They raced forward, making advancement after advancement. Unfortunately, they only looked ahead which meant that they did not turn their sights back to their past and their homes. 

The Kryptonians drilled into their world for resources, unknowingly triggering the destruction of their planet. The world had found out too late and the ones in power didn’t grant any resources to those who tried to help. People tried to appeal to the council, but they were all denied. 

General Zod had attempted a coup, but hadn’t succeeded in time. His crew was thrown out of the planet and into the Phantom Zone, where they were helpless and could only watch the planet explode. With time, the crew was able to escape and they attempted to find any Kryptonian survivors in their outposts, but had found none. 

Until now. 

The projection stopped and S was back to standing across from General Zod. The man was smiling, as if he was proud of his and his crew’s violent actions. Clark understood that they had little choice on Krypton, but the images he saw were violent. And they didn’t explain why he decided to destroy this planet. 

The general continued, unable to see the disgust on Clark’s face. “As you saw, your father had appealed to the council for the resources to build spaceships for the planet, but had been denied.” Clark’s mind flashed back to one of the men who had asked the council to think of their future. The man had looked like an older version of his avatar. 

Zod continued to speak. “In the end, he had only succeeded with saving one Kryptonian: you. By chance we found you. It took us years, but we are here now with you on this perfect planet to settle on. Krypton will live once more.”

Clark didn’t like the look on the man’s face as he finished his little speech. He quickly typed out a message, “Does the survival of Krypton have to be at the sacrifice of this world?” S asked. Clark, though, thought he already knew the answer. 

“Of course,” Zod said. 

“Then I can’t let it happen.”

“So be it.”

They moved forward at the same time. Immediately, Zod was able to dodge S’ blows. (Clark had thrown a few out at half speed to see what would happen, but clearly it looked like he wouldn’t be able to hold back.) Zod returned a punch of his own and S was thrown on the floor. His health bar dipped dramatically. 

Shit, Clark hadn’t taken that much damage in a while. The Kryptonians must be scaled so that they could match his abilities. 

They continued to fight, and as they did, it became abundantly clear that the Kryptonians were probably scaled higher than S’ current level. Not only was Zod fast and strong, Zod was also experienced and knew how to fight. Clark only had an edge over him because he knew what to expect from S’ abilities. Unfortunately, he had never had to use them to this degree before. (God, he hoped that Zod was the strongest. He didn’t know how the other territories were handling the other Kryptonians.) 

Clark couldn’t help but fumble a few attacks and dodges. And as they fought it seemed inevitable that they caused massive collateral damage. Clark hated it. Hated how S was punched into the ground or tossed into the walls. Hated the red alerts that popped up on his minimap before extinguishing when something got destroyed. He should be able to dodge these blows. It wasn’t impossible, but he just didn’t have the practice. 

Zod slammed him through another building and Clark’s screen flashed red. Not good, he was losing health fast. He had to do something-

Zod threw them bodily through another building. 

Clark came to a stop on the ground of the train station. He hoped it was empty, but no, there was a cluster of exclamation points and Clark swung S’ head around to see a family of NPCs cowering in the corner. Clark’s stomach dropped. 

Zod came at him and they grappled for dominance. But even as Clark was activating move after move, his eyes were drawn to the sight of the NPCs in the corner. They were faces he recognized. Mxy, Pxy, and their parents. He had only seen them smiling, but now the sight of their faces painted in fear would always stay with him. 

While he was looking, Zod broke out of his hold. Clark frantically clicked to engage the Kryptonian. Thankfully the general didn’t notice the family huddling in the corner. Clark executed a swift combo and managed to put Zod into a chokehold. (But just barely.) 

S’ stats were high enough to hold the man, but for how long, Clark didn’t know. Did he have any items that could help? Any techniques that could knock the man unconscious? Maybe a combination of abilities-

“I’m going to make them suffer, Kal-El,” Zod choked out. He had spotted the family. “These humans you have adopted, I will take them from you one by one.”

Heat beams sprang from Zod’s eyes and Clark tightened his hold but couldn’t stop him. The family screamed. 

Slowly but surely, Zod twisted his head so that the heat beam came closer to his friends. 

Clark made his decision. 

With a speed he didn’t know he had, Clark quickly entered his menu area to access his skill tree. He winced, but immediately put all of his unused skill points into strength. He quickly leveled and gained more abilities, but couldn’t take a look at them because Zod was taking advantage of his lapse in attention and turned- but not a moment too soon Clark had enough superstrength to twist Zod’s neck in the opposite direction. 

The heat vision stopped. And so did the general’s breathing. The room fell silent, although not a moment later was there the ‘thunk’ of the dead general's body hitting the ground. 

Above Zod’s body was the word: DECEASED.

That was.. That was the message for NPCs that could no longer be revived. Maybe Clark should be happy, but he wasn’t. The finality of it made Clark sick. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this event had somehow changed him-

There was a sniffle. 

Clark turned S’ camera around to find where the sound was coming from. 

His friends, the NPCs, were collapsed on the ground, holding each other and crying. The burn mark left from Zod’s heat vision was so close to their heads. 

Clark wanted to go to them, help them. Soothe them until they don't have those exclamation points above their heads and walk them home like normal. But when he moved forward they cowered. 

Didn’t they know him? Superman must have rescued them a dozen times over. But he supposed that when his character just killed another character, then they couldn’t be so sure of him. If only he could change and become Henry Cavill. Would they accept him them?

He was still in shock when the doors to the train station burst open. Heroes, villains, and civilians came into the building. 

“You defeated Zod!” One of them said happily. 

“You.. killed Zod,” another said, staring at the dead body. 

Two figures hustled forward from the crowd and Clark recognized them as the NPC reporter Amy Adams and her faithful cameraman. 

“Superman!” She called out, but paused once she took in the scene, no doubt noticing the crying family, General Zod’s body, and S’ crouched form. 

The cameraman swept his camera over the scene-

And it was too much. Clark knew what was going to happen, knew that Amy was going to ask him questions, but Clark couldn’t bring himself to answer them. He didn’t even know if he  _ could  _ answer them. All he knew was that the invasion involved him, S. 

He couldn’t stay. 

“Excuse me, but I have to get going now,” Clark typed out. Superman repeated said the words in his voice. Thank god, because Clark’s own throat was closed and he wouldn’t have been able to choke out the words in real life. Then S flew away. 

S kept flying until he reached a tv with no one around to see him. There he got a playback montage of what happened in his fight with Zod. He watched as the two of them grappled in the air, fled through buildings, and wreaked havoc. The camera had managed to capture the screams of NPCs and players alike during the footage. Then the screen played the footage of the crowd bursting into the train station, cameraman hustling onto the scene: Zod’s dead body-

Clark turned so S was looking away. 

“This just in! The hero, Superman, has just defeated General Zod!” The voice of reporter Amy Adams said. “How will this affect the actions of the other Kryptonians who have yet to be defeated?” 

Clark looked at the screen and saw clips of the other Kryptonians in the different territories. Heroes, villains, and civilians alike were being mowed down by these aliens. They didn’t stop despite the loss of their general and none of them looked even close to being defeated. 

The territory heroes were still dealing with the terraforming machines and the Kryptonians that were stationed at them. 

He had to help out. 

Clark checked his minimap, incidentally looking at his chatlog to see a backlog of alerts. They must have appeared when he had- had used his skill points. 

_ -Backstory unlocked! _

__ _ -Superman is a Kryptonian, with associated abilities.  _

_ -Ability to recover with the sun!  _

Clark winced and skipped over the plot relevant points to look over his other abilities:

- _ Flying restrictions waved in times of game events!  _

_ -Flying zones increased!  _

_ -No longer need to go to specified zones to cross territories!  _

Okay, that was good. He could get to the other territories faster like this. Flying was slower than going through the teleportation point or the zones, but since he wasn’t restricted to certain travel points he should move much faster. 

S flew up a little higher so that he could see the land better and noticed that his health was regenerating. 

Right, S’ powers were sun-based now. 

S flew closer to the sun and Clark watched as the sun’s rays completely regenerated him. It took some time, but he was fully recovered as if the fight had never happened. 

Good. He would need his full health for the upcoming battles. Clark made sure to eat some food that would buff S’ stats as well. When he was ready, Clark maneuvered S in the sky and towards the other territories. 

Unfortunately, there was nothing to distract him during his flight. Clark was left alone with his thoughts the whole journey. 

Thankfully, the first Kryptonian was impatient and came up to meet S when he was in range. 

Unfortunately, she was also a talker. 

“You are weak, son of El. Unsure of yourself,” Faoru-Ul said between blows. She too, was a trained warrior. And with more time on the planet, she had a good handle on her newfound powers. “The fact that you possess a sense of morality, and we do not, gives us an evolutionary advantage. And if history has proven anything, is that evolution always wins.”

The words were.. Obviously very plot driven, but Clark still flinched when he heard them. ‘Unsure of himself’. That was true. He was unsure about this whole situation. 

The fight might have dragged on, but he managed to use his now superior strength to win. (He didn’t have to kill this time, and he left the Kryptonian to be dealt with by the other players.)

Clark dealt with each Kryptonian one by one, all of them snarling insults at him. About how foolish he was. About how he was a betrayer. About how the people here would never accept him. 

He confronted Kryptonian after Kryptonian, until after the defeat of his 7th or so one, the mission to defeat the invading Kryptonians was complete. Then another mission popped up, where other players could now help destroy the terraforming machines. Clark went to help, knocking out the requisite Kryptonians in order for the territory controllers to stop the machines. 

After that, the event was over. The usual alerts popped up on everybody’s screen, people were awarded with ranks and experience, but no one seemed to be celebrating. The mood was more like a wake. It was no wonder, some players might actually lose their characters permanently after this event. 

Clark could barely look at the bodies he passed, but he still looked. He flew as fast as he could back to The City and into his territory. There, he changed back into Henry Cavill and went to his apartment. (Thankfully, the apartment was still standing.) 

And after hours of playing, Clark could finally log off. 

\-----

The sun rose high enough that it’s rays were peeking into his window. He would have to start work on the farm. He was tired, but he wanted to use his hands for something familiar. Something that would ground him. Something that he could control. 

So he went about his morning, ate breakfast with his Ma (who was shooting him looks, he couldn’t put anything past her) and then finished work on the farm. 

When he finally returned to the digital world he was greeted by dozens of texts and messages, and his face splashed on an online article:

LET’S PLAYER BREAKS INJUSTICE? AN UNEXPECTED ALIEN IN THE GAME


	5. Bruce adopts a child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags/Warnings: canon backstories for Bruce and Dick, death of parents, loss, grief, Bruce is.. like a weird mix of Batman and Bruce Wayne in this fic 
> 
> Word Count: ~5.6k

_ As of last week, the world was informed about the untimely deaths of Mary and John Grayson of the Flying Graysons. It is with a heavy heart that I report that the two were murdered in Gotham during one of their performances with Hayley’s Circus.  _

_ There have been reports about sabotage to their act, but that hasn’t yet been confirmed by Gotham PD.  _

_ “Gotham PD will do whatever possible to shed light on the untimely deaths of these two stars,” said Mayor Garcia.  _

_ And the world did lose two stars. Despite not having participated in any official competitions, both Graysons were masters of their craft, pushing the limits of gymnastics and human athletics. Their shows were a sight to behold, performances that couldn’t even be done by gold medal olympians. _

_ The athletic community will mourn the loss of these two brilliant geniuses.  _

_ However, there is light in the darkness. While Mary and John Grayson have passed, they are succeeded by their son, Richard Grayson, who has already been able to perform the quadruple loop despite his young age.  _

_ I’m sure that everyone is looking forward to his future endeavors, although his fate is currently in question… _

_ -Excerpt from the article “The End and Rise of an Era” by Perry White, from the Daily Planet.  _

\-----

Bruce Wayne knew himself to be a broken man. 

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still be a person. 

It took him years of finding himself (and he did look back at the experience without his rose-colored lenses and winced) before he could finally settle into his skin. One day, he had found that raging at the world didn’t help him anymore, even though the anger never left his side. So he went home. If he was so unsatisfied with his life in the most beautiful and harsh environments, then Bruce might as well be angry in Gotham. 

Coming back was a balm to his soul. Gotham soothed his anger like no other. At times, the city sucked him out and left him out to dry, but that was normal in Gotham. (Besides, he was told that being angry all the time wasn’t healthy and he found that being empty was a nice change of pace.) He also had distractions; there was the company to concentrate on, the people, and the city itself. 

Gotham. It was a fire, keeping him warm, yet burning him out. 

Alfred often chided him for his metaphors, but Bruce found that he couldn’t stay away from them. If he couldn’t find beauty in the dark parts of his life, then a lot of his life was going to be ugly. 

So he flitted through life without any new attachments. Bruce only concentrated on the ones that had already settled into his bones from the day he was born: Gotham, Alfred, Lucius Fox, Wayne Industries, and the manor. Nothing new could keep his attention, not like the past could. 

That is, until Richard Grayson came along. 

For all of his travels, he had never had the time to see Hayley’s traveling circus. The circus was a dying breed in the current times, and had only survived due to being the absolute best. They boasted a show that was classic and meant to wow the audience (and tug at their nostalgia). 

Bruce had even toyed with the idea of joining the circus during his travels. (It was the dream of every child, but he decided he shouldn’t enact that cliche when he had already been ‘traveling the word discovering himself’.) However, he hadn’t any marketable skills at the time (besides hurting people). 

So to find them in Gotham? 

Of course he had to go. 

He went opening night with Vicki Vale and found himself stunned with the circus's bright high top and shining lights. The smell of popcorn and hay, and the classy brass opening music immediately transported Bruce back in time. 

No wonder the circus did well. 

But that was nothing to say about the performers who were all seamless in their roles. Not perfect, no, but a mix of what was expected and true mastery of their craft. 

Especially the Flying Graysons. 

They were beautiful. 

There was something about them. Maybe it was their wide smiles, or the way they flew through the air and their taut muscles, or the way they defied what was natural. But... 

Their acrobatic skill amazed and challenged gravity, but it wasn’t just their talent and their hard work that made them shine. There was something about the family itself that made the show perfect. 

Bruce was hooked. 

He came back alone every night after the opening. After the first night, there was no press to recognize who Bruce was. He was free to drink in the sight of them and enjoy the show. He clapped when he was supposed to, gasped at their most daring tricks, and always stood during the standing ovation. 

Eventually he grew to be charmed by the rest of the circus acts. All of them, like the Graysons, had honed their craft. 

Dressed in clothes where no one could recognize whom, he was not Bruce Wayne at the circus, but just another circus goer. He hadn’t felt like Bruce in awhile. 

Oh, but to be reminded of the darkness in life when the Graysons fell, leaving their son alone. 

While the audience was losing their heads or bombarding 911 with calls, Bruce watched the ring as the circus came together to comfort Richard Grayson. But Bruce knew that no one could comfort the boy, not when he just watched his parents die in front of him while he survived. 

The audience, with Bruce in it, were quickly ushered out. 

While the audience was being herded away from the tent towards the police, Bruce stuck around. He didn’t know why he felt like he had to stay, but he did, even if it was just to keep an eye on the proceedings. He wandered around the empty tents and booths aimlessly.

Which is why he’s surprised when he came upon a sobbing Richard Grayson in the folds of one of the tents. 

He was sitting on the ground, still in his sparkly tights. The boy was rubbing at his face, smearing dirt all over it. He didn’t seem to notice the cold or the dirt, so utterly lost in his despair. 

But despite the fact that he was clearly in the throes of agony, Richard stayed quiet, like he hoped no one would find him in this state. 

Bruce was not a good speaker, especially when it came to matters of the heart. He’s been told he’s rather intense when he talked truthfully about feelings, so Bruce wondered if maybe he should turn right around and pretend he didn’t see the boy. After all, he didn’t know what to say, didn’t even know if he should say anything, and didn’t want to disturb the boy. He remembered what it was like; that nothing that was said could really change what had happened. 

But he also remembered being offered a coat when it was a cold night (Gordon) and having someone stand by his side (Alfred). And out of all the memories that night, those are ones that weren’t filed with pain. 

So Bruce moved forward. 

He walked over, not masking his steps and draped his coat over the boy’s small shoulders. Richard was swimming in the jacket and hiccuped when he realized that someone was there. Bruce didn’t speak, only sat down next to him, knees up and his arms loosely wrapped around his legs. He wasn’t close enough to touch, but just close enough that Dick could feel his warmth. 

Bruce can feel Richard’s eyes on him, but Bruce kept his gaze looking straight ahead at the fading tarp of a circus stand. Eventually, Richard stopped paying attention to him and started sniffling again, although this time he was more subdued. Out of the corner of Bruce’s eye, he can see Richard has adopted a similar position as himself. Arms tightly wound around his legs, his back was hunched over trying to make himself as small as possible. 

His crying was subdued, but his grief was still palpable. 

However, even the saddest person can get tired and eventually Richard’s crying petered out. 

That was how the two of them were found later by a group of officers and circus members. When Richard saw them, he jumped up and tried to rub his face clean. He turned his expression to something less- sad. He didn’t succeed; his eyes wide and shiny, and he was shaking. 

Bruce stood up with him and Dick swayed towards him, before moving away. 

“Dick! What were you thinking running away like that!” One of the clowns scolded. 

Richard said something back, but Bruce missed it as he was accosted by one of the police officers. 

“What are you doing here?” The officer demanded. 

Bruce had to rip his eyes away from Dick. “I was getting away from the crowds. I needed some fresh air,” Bruce said neutrally. 

The officer’s face twisted and Bruce kept a blank face. Bruce didn’t like the look of how things were turning. He wondered if he should toss his name around. He didn’t want to, but it might be prudent right now to help de-escalate the situation. There’s one officer sidling up to him in his blind spot and another about to do something-

“What’s going on here?” A familiar voice demanded. 

It was Commissioner Gordon. Thank goodness. He’s glad both for himself and for Richard’s sake. Gordon was the best person to handle this case. 

“Commissioner, this guy has been wandering around. He didn’t evacuate with the others,” the officer said gruffly. 

Gordon looked at Bruce and his eyebrows raised in recognition. Then he took in the scene: Bruce’s casual clothes, the lack of a jacket, and what must be his jacket on Richard Grayson’s shoulders. There was a spark of recognition in his eyes. 

Gordon cleared his throat. “Mr. Wayne, I’m sorry but I’m going to have my officers escort you out of here. The media is going crazy out there,” he said.

The unnamed officer’s eyes widened and they backed off. That was too easy. Bruce tried not to let his distaste show at how the officers started to treat him with care once they found out who he was. 

Bruce smiled a media winning grin, which immediately soured Gordon’s expression. He easily agreed, but before he could walk away (no doubt about to enter the aforementioned media circus), a small hand stopped him. 

It was Richard Grayson, who had snagged his sleeve. 

“Your jacket,” he said, the words tumbling out. Strongly accented, but clear. 

Bruce turned to face him and dropped his media smile. “It’s fine. Keep it.” Bruce paused, then he held his hand out for Richard to shake. 

Richard’s eyes widened, but he let go of Bruce’s sleeve and went to shake his hand. Bruce slipped a business card into the tiny hand. When they both pulled away, Richard slipped the card into a jacket pocket. Smart.

“It was nice meeting you. Feel free to contact me if you want to talk to someone,” Bruce said, and Dick bobbed his head in a nod. Bruce was glad to see that the boy looked mostly curious instead of sad now. 

Then he let the officers escort him away. 

Alfred was there waiting for him with the car. With the help of the police, he managed to get into the car without being terribly accosted by the media. However, they were persistent, and even as he was stepping inside could he hear them yelling at him:

“Mr. Wayne! Can you tell us your opinion of this tragedy so similar to your own!”

While he didn’t have to answer, the question haunted him in the nights to come. 

\-----

Bruce always kept up with the news, but this time he kept a close eye on any news regarding Haly’s Circus and Richard Grayson. The news concentrated on the deaths, with speculation that the ‘accident’ was indeed a murder, but there wasn’t any news about Grayson himself. On the one hand, no news was good news. Bruce didn’t wish the media vultures on anyone, especially not for something like this. On the other hand, no news meant that Bruce wasn’t appraised of the boy’s situation and he felt wary not knowing anything. 

Until one day he got a call:

“Master Bruce,” Alfred brought the phone into the room, “The Commissioner is on the line for you.” 

Well, that was unexpected and not the person he was waiting for.

Bruce took the phone. “Bruce Wayne,” he answered.

“Mr. Wayne, this is Commissioner Gordon.” The Commissioner's voice was surprisingly soft, barely above a whisper. Before Bruce can ask how he can help, the Commissioner quickly continued, “If there’s any chance you’re free, I would appreciate it if you could come to the courthouse.” 

Then the Commissioner hung up. 

It was only because the request was coming from Gordon (and because Bruce was very curious) that he decided to go right away. Alfred prepared a nondescript car and Bruce dressed in a conservative suit, just in case. 

When he arrived, Bruce was then at a loss on how to proceed. There was no court in session, nor were there any officers in the area to ask about Gordon’s whereabouts. Alfred inquired about the Commissioner while Bruce used the distraction to slip away. ‘To the bathroom’ he would tell anyone who was wondering what he was doing. 

He was passing the bathroom when he found Richard Grayson curled in a nook behind a fire-extinguisher. 

Or rather, Richard found him. 

“It’s you,” a small voice said. 

Bruce zeroed in on the voice and peeked around until he saw Richard contorted in a truly impressive position.

“It’s me,” Bruce replied in lieu of asking what the boy is doing. 

Thankfully, Richard removed himself from his hiding place on his own. “What are you doing here?” He asked. Then he opened his mouth again, “I don’t have your coat.” 

“It’s fine. It’s yours,” Bruce answered the second question easily. Then he considered the first. “The Commissioner asked me to come pay him a visit. What about you? Why are you here?” 

Richard’s face twists and his nose wrinkles. He silently mouths the word ‘commissioner’. 

Bruce waited patiently as Richard mulled over the word. When the boy was done, he answered, “They are deciding where to put me,” Richard explained. “But what I think does not matter, so I left.” 

Bruce considered what he knew about the legalities of being orphaned and what he knew about Grayson’s situation and nodded. It must be difficult, his parents’ death happening in Gotham, but Richard was definitely born somewhere else, perhaps in a different country. The circus was his family, but other adults were to his fate. 

It didn’t sound like a fair process. 

“I just wanted to get out of there,” Richard admitted. 

“There’s no shame in that,” Bruce replied. 

Richard stares at him after that and searches his eyes. 

“You really believe that,” Richard said. 

“Of course.” 

Richard looked away. “Thank you,” he said, softly. 

“Don’t thank me when I haven’t done anything,” Bruce said, voice matching Richard’s. 

He almost slid back into his memories of how he was useless in the past when Richard’s stomach growled audibly. Bruce met Richard’s eyes and red face. 

“I haven’t eaten anything lately,” the boy defended. 

“Then let’s get you something to eat.” 

\-----

Luckily, Bruce was carrying small denominations in his wallet and the two of them buy as many snacks from the vending machine as they can carry. When Dick (the boy had immediately corrected him the first time Bruce had tried to call him Richard) had mentioned that he had never tried many American snacks, Bruce had bought a little more than what they could carry and stuffed them into his pockets. They brought their bounty towards the roof where they could get some privacy and fresh air. 

A comment from Bruce have the two of them sitting in the middle of the roof well away from the edge of the building. There they break into the mountain of snacks and Dick makes good on his promise of trying every single one. 

He looked placated, but Bruce shouldn’t have assumed because he has a mouth full of caramel when Dick said, “I looked you up.” 

Bruce ungummed his teeth to reply. “Did you?” Bruce asked. He wondered- no, he knew what the boy must have seen. Bruce had given him a card with his name and it would have been easy to find out who Bruce was, what had happened to him. It was easy to forget that not everyone knew his past when he was in Gotham.

Dick nodded. He didn’t meet Bruce’s eyes. 

“What was it like?” Dick asked softly. 

If anyone else asked that question, Bruce would either check out of the conversation or verbally tear them apart. Too many felt like they were privileged to hear his experiences and he had quickly learned how to respond. 

But for Dick, Bruce would answer honestly. 

“I remember the smell of my mom’s perfume,” Bruce said. “I remember how large my father’s hand was on my head. I remember how it felt to hold their hands and swing in-between them.”

Bruce looked at Dick and now the boy was looking at him with wide eyes. 

“Even after they were killed-” and Bruce can barely talk about it without remembering the gunshot, the clatter of pearls, the sound of his parents’ bodies hitting the pavement- “I can still remember those small things quite clearly.”

“...”

“And I can’t ever forget how they died in front of me,” Bruce admitted. “Even if I remember the good things.”

Dick’s eyes grew distant in a familiar look of one who was going back into their memories. Hopefully it was something good, but Bruce knew that it was most likely a mixed bag, the good and the bad. He waited for Dick to pull himself together. 

Dick slowly said, “I remember.. the smell of chalk on their skin. The cheers from the audience as we landed a routine. How steady their hands were.” 

His voice broke and he started to cry again. Bruce scooted a little closer, just enough so that his leg was pressed up against the boy’s leg.

Bruce froze when Dick threw himself face first into Bruce’s shoulder and sobbed into it. Minutes passed and Bruce managed to (mentally) relax. It wasn’t long until Dick’s sobs petered out into sniffles and he was rubbing his face and eating more junk food to distract himself. 

That’s how Alfred and the Commissioner found them, Dick with his red face, shoving junk food into his mouth, and Bruce with a shoulder covered in cheese powder. 

When the Commissioner looked at both of them with relief instead of anger or annoyance, Bruce knew there was something wrong 

His instincts were proven right when the Commissioner led all three of them back into the courtroom. He had been wrong that there was no case, it just wasn’t loud and noisy like he had expected. Although not loud, the ongoing fight between the circus, the city, and the state for Dick’s custody was brutal. He wanted to blame the judge for allowing this to go on (in front of Dick no less), but understood each point brought up and figured it was better for Dick to hear it than to be kept in the dark.

However, they eventually reached the point where they started talking in circles while Dick stared at the ground. 

What could break the stalemate?

It finally dawned on him. 

“I would also like to offer my guardianship for Dick’s placement.”

Bruce’s voice rang out clearly and the courtroom quieted. 

“Who are you?” Haly, the circus master, asked. 

“My name is Bruce Wayne. I’m a resident of Gotham,” Bruce said. Haly looked at him in confusion. 

“Do you have any relation to the boy?” The man representing the federal courts asked. 

“No,” Bruce answered. 

That man looked at him incredulously. Then asked, “Have you any experience with children?” 

“No,” Bruce answered again. 

The man didn’t bother to hide his stare and continued to ask Bruce questions about himself. Each one revealed more and more of Bruce’s lack of expertise in taking care of- anyone. 

“Then why are you offering to take him in?” The lawyer finally snapped. “How are you in any way qualified to take care of this child?” 

The resounding silence was deafening. Even the judge leaned back in their seat. The rest of Gothamites share looks as Bruce just calmly stared down the red-faced lawyer. 

Haly cleared his throat. “No offense, but he’s right. I appreciate you offering, but it doesn’t sound like you are uh- ‘qualified’,” he finished, but not unkindly. 

Bruce met Haly’s gaze. “I only wanted to offer my services because of my understanding of Dick’s situation.”

“Your understanding of Dick’s situation,” the state lawyer said, incredulous. 

Bruce nodded. “My parents were also killed in front of me when I was eight.” 

The state lawyer clammed up at that. 

Haly bowed his head. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Wayne.” 

“It’s what happened,” Bruce said. But he was grateful to Mr.Haly for not allowing the room to fall silent. It helped Bruce continue, “As I was saying, I have the economic means of taking care of Dick, I have Alfred, my butler, who raised me after my parents were gone, and I have a unique insight to Dick’s situation. And I’m sure that CPS can help me, as well.”

Bruce met Dick’s eyes, who was looking at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s just another option for you, Dick,” Bruce finished. 

Dick nodded, which Bruce found satisfactory. He didn’t know how this would play out, but it was only fair for him to offer. Sometimes, he felt responsible for what happened in his fair city. And this was a situation that he knew. 

“How about we discuss this new proposition then,” the Gotham lawyer said, breaking the odd mood that befell the room. The state lawyer agreed and so did Mr.Haly. The judge dismissed Bruce and Alfred, and Commissioner Gordon led them out. 

The officer followed them all the way to the car where Bruce couldn’t help but ask, “Did you ask me to come here, knowing I would offer?

Gordon came to a halt, “What? No, no.” The man quickly denied. “I invited you- look, the kid’s been on edge all the time, being in police protection, and the whole thing with his parents. Not to mention the fact that the circus is supposed to be packing up and leaving soon.”

Gordon’s lips thinned. “Because of that, the court is ruling more towards having the kid stay here, for a more ‘traditional’ upbringing, like that will help when he’s being ripped away from his family- anyways. The point is, if that happened, it would have been good for him to at least have someone he’s comfortable with here in Gotham. And he even mentioned you by name, Mr. Wayne. That’s why I asked you to come; I wanted him to have a friendly face.” 

That was a surprise to Bruce, because Dick hadn’t called. But he supposed that a young child living with a circus might not have the means to contact Bruce. (And Bruce remembered how the smallest gesture would stay in the mind forever.) 

“I’m glad you did,” Bruce said truthfully. “I appreciate you calling me here today, Commissioner.” 

Gordon bobbed his head. “I’ll be sure to contact you as soon as possible with the ruling. No matter what the decision.”

“..Thank you.” 

\-----

Afterwards, Bruce did what he did best: he overthought the situation. 

He thought about what he could have done better with Dick, how he could have handled the boy's grief better, and what other words could he have offered the boy. 

He thought about how he could have made his offer more appealing, or made sure that Dick had a final say in the matter, or maybe throw in his support for which choice Dick wanted (it was probably the circus). 

Then Bruce examined his life and thought about how having a child would change things. He could no longer stay out late. He would have to help Dick with school. He would have to rethink using the manor as a place to have parties. He would have to change his habit of working whenever he wanted. 

The manor would have to change: move the breakable objects around, make sure a room was ready, make sure all the things that Bruce just instinctively knew about the manor were taken care of. (The kitchen door hadn’t been replaced despite the fact that it no longer closed properly, the banister near the back door was rickety, and there were steps in the stairs that creaked. Well, Bruce could probably keep that one.) 

As Bruce went through his days, he noticed everything that would change if Dick came into his life. 

But he found himself not caring as much as he thought he would. 

Alfred said nothing, but did start bringing out parenting books for him to read. Bruce thanked him and wondered if Alfred had read these when Bruce was Dick’s age. (There were both new and old books and Bruce wondered if maybe Alfred never stopped reading parenting books.) 

The first sign that a decision had been made didn’t come from the Commissioner, but from a two person team from Child Protective Services. One of them he recognized from his charity work, the other he didn’t. 

Alfred led the stranger through the manor, while Elaine Thomas came up to Bruce. 

“Thank you for meeting us without any prior notice, Mr. Wayne,” Elaine said. 

“It’s no problem and the least I could do,” Bruce repeated one of his usual lines. “Is there anything I can do to help you in particular?”

Elaine ran a nervous hand through her hair. “No- well, yes. How serious are you about adopting Dick Grayson?” 

The question didn’t come as a surprise, but the person it’s coming from was a surprise. 

“I think,” Bruce said slowly, “that if I’m the best option, then I will take Dick into my life and change it to accommodate him,” Bruce said truthfully. 

The answer made her eyes widen. “Oh- that’s very- I’m- what a mature answer.” She said, like she wasn’t expecting one. 

Bruce gave her a rueful smile. 

Elaine cleared her throat. “Well, that decision may come sooner than you think. From my point of view, it looks unlikely that the court will grant Haly of Haly’s Circus custody.” Her face turned into a frown. “While the lifestyle is unconventional, not only is the circus familiar with Dick, the circus troupe has many parents that would also take responsibility for the boy’s well-being. But due to the.. Public nature of the event and how Gotham would like to ‘take responsibility’ of the boy, that may no longer be a choice.” 

Bruce held back a wince. Haly’s Circus was meant to be helping tourism in Gotham. That had back-fired spectacularly with this event.

“Then let’s move forward as if it’s a strong possibility,” Bruce demurred. 

She nodded. “I agree.” 

And they set off to work. 

As her associate went around with Alfread asking general questions, Elaine went over the nitty gritty of what to prepare for if Dick was placed with him. She went over schools and potential classes for standardizing his education (apparently he may have to take an ESL course first), and how Bruce will have to accommodate Dick’s schedule. Alfred would be a great asset for helping with things like commuting from school and extracurriculars (and Elaine had handed him a whole binder of potential after-school programs and sports in the city), but Bruce would have to consider what would happen if Alfred would no longer be his primary driver. 

Then they went over Bruce’s work schedule, how having Dick would change his work hours, his business trips, his night time galas and charity events, his weekend activities and trips, and Bruce didn’t have a sound-proof office? He should look into that right away. 

The list was long and he found Elaine arranging his life around. Scheduled meal times in the manor, social events with other children for Dick and parents for Bruce, planned bonding times for the two (three) of them. Individualized and joint therapy sessions. 

That wasn’t even counting the many things that he would have to accomplish beforehand. A discussion plan with Alfred. Meeting with a therapist. Specialized courses in CPR, nutrition, and parenting. And many, many, parenting books and a list of children's books that he should read right now. 

“This is extensive,” Bruce commented even as he was mentally planning how to fit everything into his current schedule. 

“You’re a rare case, Mr. Wayne,” Elaine said as she pulled out more pamphlets for him. “Rarely is custody given to unaffiliated caregivers that have no experience in rearing children, AND who have shown no interest in adopting. Many foster parents either have children of their own, or took a course to become foster parents, or are close to the children. Or- they were in the system and know how to relate.” 

Elaine can’t help but steal a glance at Bruce who took no offense. Despite being orphaned himself, Bruce understood that his childhood was very different from the norm. 

Elaine soldiered on. “You have the resources to do everything,” he had the money, yes. “But what some foster parents have years to accomplish, you only have- maybe a matter of months. Or less.” 

The timing of that was suspect. Adding in the fact that Dick was involved in a case, a mere month didn’t feel long enough to accomplish anything regarding the case or Dick’s custody. Yet a month was a long time for a boy’s (and a circus’) life to be on hold. 

“Then I suppose I better get studying,” Bruce absently said. 

That earned another look, which Bruce supposed wasn’t out of place. After all, he had ‘abandoned’ Gotham for his own ‘self-studying’ for years before coming back. Elaine had a right to be worried that Bruce would just leave to avoid the situation altogether. (He had certainly the means to do so.) But this wasn’t something he was considering, quite the opposite. 

The next weeks were filled with him (and Alfred) cramming in as much information as they could and making as many changes as possible. They have workers crawling around the house fixing things left and right and every night Bruce met up with Lucius Fox to make sure that the suggestions Elaine had made to his lifestyle were feasible. They were, but they involved quite a bit of restructuring at the company and everyone was caught in a tizzy over the rapid changes.

But a call from Gordon assured him that the actions he was taking were quite necessary. 

“I’m going to give it to you straight, Mr. Wayne. Mayor Garcia is pushing for Gotham to ‘take responsibility’ of Richard Grayson,” Gordon said with a sigh. 

Bruce winced over the phone. “Does this have to do with the most recent article regarding the Grayson legacy?” 

A month had already passed after the Graysons’ incident and most of the media had died down after no new developments had been reported. That and most readers weren’t very interested in the minute details of the custody battle. However, the Daily Planet had recently released an article that concentrated on the Grayson legacy and their past achievements, which were quite extensive. The article laid out how Mary and John Grayson were olympian level gymnasts, who had in fact inspired many athletes by their routines. The article also mentioned how Richard had quite an impressive future before him and was already following in his parents footsteps in skill. 

A mistake on the reporter’s fault. 

The Daily Planet article had blown up and now the media wouldn't stop following the custody battle. There were cries of outrage from the public about how Richard should be ‘raised right’ and ‘continue his legacy’. Which to many didn’t mean continuing his life on the road with the circus, but assimilating into Gotham and showing off those prized skills once he grew up. 

Bruce knew a thing or two about parental legacies and he wanted to curse the reporter for the damning article. 

Gordon signed over the phone. “So you read it?” He said, his voice sounding weary.

“Yes, I did.” Bruce said. Then admitted, “I know a thing or two about people wanting a kid to live up to their legacy.” 

For a moment, Gordon was silent. Then, “You may be a good choice for the kid after all.”

“May?” Bruce asked, amused. He understood where the man was coming from. 

Gordon cleared his throat. 

“No worries, Commissioner. I know where you're coming from. I’ve been working on it. In fact, I could use your advice if you’re free.” 

Gordon made time for him. 

\-----

With the help of Elaine, Jim Gordon, and Alfred, Bruce was ready to receive Dick into his life. The process wasn’t pleasant, but after talking to Dick and confirming that the boy wanted this, Bruce managed to convince the court to give him custody. 

And so Dick Grayson entered Bruce’s life and utterly changed it. 


	6. Bruce adopts more children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags/Warnings: near-canon compliant backstory for Jason, he survives, description of injury, defamation of character
> 
> Word Count: ~8.6k

_ “You heard it here first!”  _

_ [A man, immaculately dressed, with slicked back hair looked into the camera with an almost manic glee.] _

_ “This is Jack Ryder, here to bring you the best and unrestricted news in Gotham, at The Ugly Truth!” _

_ [The audience clapped and cheered.] _

_ [The man waved a hand at the crowd with a laugh.] _

_ “Settle down, settle down. I know the sharks of Gotham are looking for a bite, and boy! Do I have a bite for you tonight!  _

_ “Many of you may have heard the news, but for those of you living under a rock, Bruce Wayne has got himself in a heap of trouble! Oh, Brucie’s always a hot mess, but his latest disaster is landing him in hot water with CPS. That’s right, one of Bruce’s golden boys has almost bit the bullet under his care!” _

_ [The audience gasped, but some titter with laughter. Jack Ryder also laughed.] _

_ “I know what some of us were thinking: how long would it take before the kids would be taken from ‘Party Prince Brucie Wayne’? And it looks like the worst, or really, the inevitable has come to pass.  _

_ “While out on Spring Break with his kid, the two of them entered a political hot zone where known terrorists were in the area.” _

_ [The audience once again reacts, although Jack Ryder isn’t surprised by their reaction.] _

_ “Yeah! Can you believe it? I mean, I can. Spring Break means that the Crown Prince of Gotham can break all the rules, amirite? Unfortunately, terrorists wait for no man, and the youngest Wayne was caught in a bombing in the area. At the moment, there is no word on whether he is still alive.” _

_ [The camera pans over to the audience who are all aghast at the news. Many of them look disgusted, or sad, but most of them look angry.] _

_ “Which is why we, the people of Gotham, should look into our hearts and decide: is Bruce Wayne fit to look after the children of Gotham?” _

_ [There’s a resounding ‘NO’ from the audience, as if they were cued in.] _

_ “That’s right, Bryce Wayne!” [Jack Ryder points at the camera.] “Gotham has decided and it looks like you ain’t fit to be a father anymore!”  _

_ Excerpt from “The Ugly Truth” showing on date XX/XX/XX hosted by Jack Ryder _

\-----

Maybe it wasn’t healthy to live for someone else, but it was much healthier than anything Bruce had been doing before. In fact, the practice of a parent living for a child was usually encouraged. (People had often remarked that it wasn’t healthy for Bruce to only live for a city, especially one like Gotham.) 

And that was what Bruce found himself doing, living so that he can take care of Dick. Bruce changed his life to match Dick’s, from his work and travel schedule, to school, to making sure they had time to bond (and yes, even therapy). 

Oh, Dick may not need another father, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have more family. (Besides, to Dick who had a whole circus as a family, it was only normal to have a rapidly expanding family.) 

They had a rough start, between Bruce’s ignorance, Dick’s unusual lifestyle, and the lack of normalcy between them, but they (Alfred, Bruce, and Dick) managed to settle into something that satisfied everyone. (Although, secretly Bruce felt that the happy result was not due to any of his contributions, but due to Alfred’s competence and Dick’s sunny and strong disposition.)

But Bruce was very happy with his new life…

..Which changed and became more complicated the older that Dick grew, especially when the young man (no longer a boy) didn’t need Bruce or Alfred anymore. This started when Dick was gaining independence through his many friends and connections as young as 13. (Probably earlier, he was a circus kid after all.) 

Bruce was unable to adapt to Dick’s independence and when the young man left for college, Bruce felt a wide chasm open up between them. His life changed once again, a huge hole where Dick once was. Bruce missed him. Missed him so much he almost reverted back to old habits. Almost. 

That was when Jason appeared. 

His first impression wasn’t the greatest, but he supposed it was the best he could hope for considering their circumstances. 

Bruce was coming out of a party (he could go to those now that Dick was no longer home) when he spotted the officers lounging around his car. This wasn’t too unusual, but the small, struggling kid being held in their grasp was. 

“Hello, officers,” Bruce said. He didn’t recognize either of them. They looked normal, unremarkable, forgettable, but he knew that could be an issue in and of itself. 

“Hello, Mr. Wayne,” one of them said politely. 

The boy continued to struggle despite the pleasantries being exchanged. Bruce stayed quiet and waited for them to continue. 

The wind blew strong, typical for a Gotham night, and the boy and the officers shivered. Bruce was fine in his overcoat and scarf, but the kid… Thankfully, the officers spoke first. 

“We found him trying to take the tires off your car, Mr. Wayne,” the officer finally said. 

“Thank you for your diligence,” Bruce said, although he had some doubts about their claims. All of Bruce’s cars had security systems that were personally designed by Lucius and himself. 

“Unfortunately, he got two of them off before we caught him.”

“Ah.” Yes, that would necessitate the officers waiting for him and would prove their claims. 

“Perhaps you shouldn’t park so far away from the building next time, Mr. Wayne. Makes the car an easy target,” one of them unnecessarily offered. 

Bruce knew that, of course he did. But he didn’t want to take away parking spaces from the others that needed it more. 

“Or you can use the valet,” the other said. 

Normally, he would, but tonight he wanted the fresh air. 

That brought up ‘why’ he had gone out tonight and the thought soured his mood. 

Bruce didn’t want to continue this conversation while a kid was freezing to death and his car was missing half his tires. “Do you need anything else, officers?” 

“Your statement at the station, Mr. Wayne.”

“Alright,” Bruce nodded. ”If you would just give me a moment.”

Bruce moved over to his car before the officers could protest and took a look at the damage. The officers made half-hearted protests before mumbling something about ‘eccentric rich men’ before returning back to their car, kid in tow. He was locked up in the back staring intently as Bruce did his inspection. 

There were no marks on his car. Or at least, not any serious ones. Not an amatuer, that was for sure. No fingerprints, or smudges. 

Bruce took a look around the parking lot. His wasn’t the only car around, not even the most expensive, so why was it chosen…

It finally made sense when he checked the security system. The light was blinking red. That’s when he remembered that this car was supposed to be taken to Wayne Industries for an inspection. He hadn’t even thought about that before taking the car out. (How had he known that the red light meant that the car security wasn’t activated?)

Bruce used the side-view mirror to look at the kid, who was still staring at him. 

Next Bruce inspected the kid’s work. The rims were removed and neatly stacked, but all the bolts were missing. (Perhaps still in the kid’s pocket.) The tires were leaning against the side of the car, but other than that there was no damage. The kid had been smart, realizing that the security system was compromised, but only taking what was useful and couldn’t be identified to the car. 

Bruce was sure that if the officers hadn’t caught him, then the kid would have made a pretty penny. 

Bruce looked up again to catch the kid staring. He glared when he noticed Bruce staring. 

Interesting. 

Bruce quickly put the tires back on with a kit he had in the back and let the officers know that he would follow them to the station. They grumbled, but agreed. 

When they were finally at the station, Bruce learned who the boy was: 

“Jason Todd, repeat offender,” an officer said. “You might be a minor at 14, but we’ve already called the group home, kid. They’ll read your rights.” 

Group home? 

It was late, but Bruce sent a discrete text to Elaine who might be able to look into the legality of what was happening right now. With his battered shoes and thin thread-bare sweater, Jason clearly had his reasons for jacking Bruce’s tires. Jason obviously chose his target carefully: someone who could afford to buy new tires and would be wealthy enough to get another ride. The crime was also non-violent. 

Bruce was sure to make note of that in his testimony, even going to say that he shouldn’t have made his car an easy target. 

Surprisingly, Elaine arrived in person. Even more surprising was her business suit, which Bruce knew she only wore to make a professional impression. 

Bruce wasn’t allowed into the conversation that happened next, but Elaine made sure to schedule an appointment with him the next day. 

\-----

“Would you consider fostering another child, Bruce?” 

The question was not what he was expecting and Bruce almost choked on his coffee.

“Jason is 14 years old, a repeat non-violent criminal offender, and isn’t doing very well in his group home.” Elaine was quick to say. “I don’t think he’s receiving the care that he needs there in such a large group of kids. He’s not a bad kid, in fact he’s very smart and considerate for his age, but- he has a lot to be angry about. All of the kids do.”

“Elaine,” Bruce paused not knowing how to gracefully turn her down. “What makes you think that I would be a good fit?” 

“I don’t. But I’m asking you to meet him and if you are a good fit, then to foster him. Same as you did with Dick,” Elaine simply said. 

Bruce flinched at hearing that name. If he was so affected by simply hearing the young man’s name, how could he even attempt to take care of someone else again? Especially a young man who was apparently angry at the world and had good reasons for being angry. Bruce couldn’t say that he wouldn’t be totally unaffected. 

“Please, Bruce. Jason’s on his last offense. One more and he’ll be put in a correctional facility,” Elaine pleaded. 

“Why now?” Bruce asked, unable to give her a straight answer. 

She took his hands into her own and Bruce almost sighed aloud. Her overture of trust and comfort was obvious, but it was also working to soften him up. If her reasoning was sound, then he would probably go through with whatever she suggested. Damn sincerity.

“Even though you’re qualified to be a foster parent, I know you well enough that you aren’t a good general fit for all foster kids. You aren’t aiming to be a perfect parent, but a family member. That’s fine.”

Ouch. She wasn’t wrong, but still it hurt to hear her speak so frankly. 

“On the other hand, there are some kids who desperately need that. You’re a perfect fit for these outlying cases. Dick was a good example of it. I’m hoping that Jason will be the same.”

Bruce nodded slowly. He did good with Dick. At least in the beginning. And if Elaine had so much faith in him, then he would try. (Maybe he would find someone else to live for.) 

\-----

They set the meeting at a small family-owned pizza parlour that Bruce often frequented. The food there was great, the owners were kind, and there was a private table that Bruce could reserve. It wasn’t the neutral meeting place that Elaine suggested, but this meet-up was meant to show Jason what life would be like with Bruce and this was just one of the ways Bruce lived. 

Anyways, this meeting was for Jason to see if Bruce was a good choice. Jason didn’t have to prove anything if he didn’t want to. 

Bruce was sitting down when Jason was escorted to the table. The kid came in looking like he had a chip on his shoulder and something to prove. His eyes were already darting around, checking the exits. (The fire exit which was the most easily accessible and the closest from this position, the front door, clear to get through but the door was rickety, and through the kitchen, which Bruce knew had a back-opening.) 

It was fine. 

He didn’t look particularly happy to be here, but he didn’t look angry either at Bruce. Hm. 

They exchanged soft words of ‘hello’ before Bruce indicated that Jason could order whatever he wanted. Bruce was paying, of course. And he told Jason to help himself to the starters that had already arrived. 

Jason ordered. Bruce ordered. Then they continued to silently eat the appetizers. 

Or at least Bruce was. Jason looked like he was savoring each bite, slowly working his way through the bread knots and cheese sticks, even enthusiastically eating the salad. The young man ran his fingers through the sauce and chased every crumb. His hands were clean today and so was his face, but his clothes were the same (he was wearing several layers with a worn red hoodie and thread-bare jeans) as before, even though the day was warmer than the night. And in the day, Bruce could clearly see the way his knuckles were red like he had been fighting. 

They continued to stay silent. 

“Why are you staring?” Jason asked and Bruce mentally agreed that he was staring. 

“It’s just something I do,” Bruce said. It was just something he did. He liked being aware and being aware meant cataloguing everything that was in his sights. He didn’t know if he could explain the habit effectively without sounding- paranoid. (The word had come up often when he talked about the habit.) 

“What, it’s not because you’re judging me to see if I’m a good kid or not?” Jason said with a sneer. “Because let me cut to the chase, I’m not the normal kid you want for a nuclear family.” 

“You’re a good kid,” Bruce said and just that simple statement seemed to crack Jason’s tough guy exterior. At that moment it really showed that Jason was only 14 years old. “I trust Elaine’s judgement.” And he trusted the own investigations he did, but that was beside the point. “Besides, you’re supposed to be judging me to see if I’m a good fit. Not the other way around.” 

Jason eyed him. “Then why do you want to take care of me?” 

“I-“  _ don’t _ , is what he didn’t say. Saying that would be the easy way out, but in reality it wasn’t true. Bruce wanted to take care of everyone in Gotham, although he also had his own reasons for why he wanted to adopt Jason...

Jason’s face twisted anyway, as if he knew what the man had been about to say. 

Bruce gave himself a mental shake. There was no excuse why he shouldn’t explain himself. . 

“Do you know why I adopted Dick Grayson?” Bruce asked. 

Jason’s face scrunched up. “The media made some interpretations that it was because the kid was some sort of athletic genius.” 

“Do you believe that?” Bruce asked, mildly. 

Jason shrugged. “Not really. If that was the case you would have adopted some other smart kids, or touted him around more.” 

Bruce nodded. “Dick should have had the option of being taken care of by the circus. They’re his family and he had been raised by many of the members. It was the family and home that he knew. But due to the- publicity, the city of Gotham wanted to take responsibility and have him placed in the system here.” 

“Politics,” Jason grumbled and his face twisted in understanding. Bruce mentally agreed with the reaction. 

“Dick would have been great in any household, he was strong and sunny and-“ and Jason was already frowning so Bruce wrapped it up, “-he had a conventional demeanor that might have gotten him adopted quite easily. Or maybe not. We’ll never know.” 

“Elaine had been the one to approach me asking if I would consider taking him in. I wasn’t the first choice for Dick’s placement, but I was the best choice when it came to understanding what he had gone through.” 

Jason looked surprisingly melancholy at the thought. 

“So for you,” Bruce paused, allowing Jason the time to look up so he could meet his eyes, “Elaine reached out to me again. She told me that if the system isn’t working for you, maybe someone that’s unconventional would work.” 

Jason slowly considered the words. “But- I’m not like you and Dick. It’s not the same.”

Of course a fellow Gothamite would know his story. Well, it certainly made things easier. 

Bruce gave him a wry smile. “On the contrary. I think you and I are a little more alike than you think. I, too, used to be- angry at the world for its injustices. Angry at things that were out of my control.” 

Jason stayed silent, picking at the tablecloth. “How did you get less angry?” He asked, quietly. 

“I was angry for years,” Bruce admitted. “It took leaving Gotham to realize that I could feel emotions other than anger. Like that I missed the city and how much I loved it. Oh, I was still angry but I found that I could put that anger to use or manage it instead of having it weigh me down. Doing things helps, like improving the city and practicing martial arts.”

Jason slowly nodded. 

“It helps to be rich too,” Bruce added. “Traveling the world like a vagabond really put my anger in perspective when I found myself just surviving.”

That managed to pull a wry smile out of Jason. “Ain’t that the truth.” 

That was the first honest smile that Bruce had managed to wrangle out of the young man all day. Thankfully, the good (or maybe sardonic) mood lasted through the meal, and seemed to grow when the main courses arrived. Jason’s eyes grew wide at the assortment of different pizzas and pastas piling up in front of him. And after a quick nod from Bruce, he quickly dug in. 

Maybe it was the food, or Bruce’s honestly, but Jason opened up after that. He talked more, mainly asking questions about what would happen if he did choose to get adopted by Bruce. Bruce outlined the process, what had happened last time with Dick, and the guidelines that Elaine had presented. 

Then he proceeded to interrogate Bruce. The experience was rather novel and Bruce actually enjoyed how Jason picked him apart with questions:

“What’s it like being one of the richest men in Gotham?” 

“Is it true that you own like, a third of the city?” 

“Hey, there was a recent article where you beat up a mugger and handed him over to the police. Is that true?” 

Bruce answered each question truthfully:

“I’m not the richest man in Gotham, although I am very rich. It makes life easier.” “I don't own very much of Gotham proper, only what’s attached to the manor and tower.” And: “That one’s true. I didn’t beat him up, but I did stop him myself. He ran away afterward. I think the man involved actually went to the media about what happened.” 

On and on the questions went, getting more candid as the conversation went on, but all were designed to get a better idea of what Bruce was like. (The boy was clever. Maybe Jason would like some lessons in investigation. Dick had enjoyed it, so maybe Jason would too.)

Eventually, Bruce managed to ask some of his own. He learned that Jason loved reading and read anything he could get his hands on (including pap magazines with questionable stories). Jason was also very smart, both intellectually and street smart. And that the biggest issue that Jason seemed to have with Bruce was his ignorance over Jason’s lifestyle. (It was a rather reasonable complaint. Jason hadn’t said it aloud, but he also wasn’t hiding his disdain of Bruce’s gilded lifestyle. Though Bruce hoped this wouldn’t be an issue in the future.) 

As they continued talking, Bruce quickly came to the conclusion that he and Jason were rather compatible. If Jason chose him… well, he thought they would get along. 

They were eating gelato when Jason asked his final question:

“You know, the media makes you out to be more of an airhead, which you absolutely aren’t. You’re like the opposite of an airhead,” Jason said. “How did that happen?” 

The incredulity in his voice made Bruce want to smirk. “I cultivated the image a little,” Bruce said with a shrug to Jason’s raised brows. “It’s a better image than being the intense, unsocialized, eccentric millionaire that beats up muggers and lives in a manor by himself.” 

Jason snorted. “Okay, I can see why being an airhead is better. If you were honest- which that answer was  _ way _ too honest- you would totally sound like a serial killer. Kids don’t want to hear that- no one wants to hear that, they want to hear you joke about how you're a party playboy, Bruce.” 

Bruce. It’s the first time that Jason addressed him by name. It’s nice. It felt like a step in the right direction. 

It’s a fight for him to say the next line completely straight-faced. “Exactly. As I always say, better to be an airhead than a serial killer.” 

The laugh that Jason barked out lifted Bruce’s mood. (And had the unfortunate consequence of making Jason snort gelato up his nose. Bruce was justified in laughing.) 

When they separate, Jason agreed to another meeting. Bruce wanted to show him his new potential school, the manor, and introduce him to Alfred. He would do it with the intention of welcoming Jason into his life- if that was what Jason wanted. Bruce.. Hoped that Jason would agree to stay with him. 

(He knew that it wouldn’t factor into the boy’s decision, but Bruce sent loads of pizza and pasta along with him.) 

\-----

Jason adored Alfred. 

\-----

Jason agreed to be adopted.

\-----

At first, things were rough. Even though Bruce had some parenting experience, Jason was very different then Dick. Thankfully, Bruce, Jason, and Alfred agree to be patient and work through each of their issues one by one in order to figure things out. Bruce was very lucky that Jason was so mature, especially when Bruce had other problems of his own. 

“Bruce, you adopted another kid?” Dick’s voice filtered through the phone, and Bruce could detect a hint of hurt in his voice. 

Shit.

Bruce had been careful to give Dick the space the young man wanted after their ‘falling out’ and hadn’t warned him of Jason’s adoption. He must have found out through Alfred. (Hopefully through Alfred and not the media.) While the decision was entirely Bruce’s, he understood now (at the moment of Dick’s call) that it was.. cold to leave him in the dark. 

“I know that I don’t have any authority to stop you, but a call would have been nice. I had to find out from Alfred, Elaine, and Duke.” 

“I’m sorry, Dick.” 

Dick sighed over the line. “I know you are, but I still wish it didn’t happen.” 

“...” 

“Anyways, I gotta get going. I’ll.. see you around.” 

“Are you coming back for Thanksgiving?” Bruce asked before Dick could hang up. “I know that you were planning to meet with your friends over the winter holidays-“ 

“Bruce, how do you know- ugh, you’re so overprotective-“ 

“But how about Thanksgiving? It doesn’t even have to be the whole holiday, just the day of.” Bruce cleared his throat. “I’m sure.. Alfred would love to see you. And Jason would love to meet you.” 

Bruce didn’t say that he wanted Dick to come. He couldn’t. He didn’t deserve to say it. 

“..Okay. Yeah, I’m thinking about spending most of winter break with the others, but I’ll come back for Thanksgiving. The whole time too, not just for dinner.” 

“.. Thank you.” 

Another sigh. “I’ll see you then.” 

Dick hung up. 

\----

Thanksgiving was an awkward affair. 

Jason, for all that he acted like a tough guy, was very sentimental. And once he found out that Richard “Dick” Grayson, The Flying Grayson, his foster brother, was coming to Thanksgiving, all Jason wanted was to be liked by him. When Dick came home, Jason had stars in his eyes. 

Dick.. was not so enthusiastic. 

It was the tension between Bruce and Dick leaking over, Bruce was sure of it. It left Dick cautious in his own home, not knowing how to act. The sight hurt Bruce more than he expected. 

Their only saving grace was that the other families that Bruce had invited over. The Foxes, the Thomas’, and the Gordons to name a few. Everyday there was another family to help distract and act as a buffer between the two boys. 

Bruce hoped that things between all of them would resolve in time. 

\-----

Things do. 

Well, at least whatever hang-ups are between Dick and Jason become resolved.

(Bruce and Dick.. were still learning how to act with one another.) 

The two boys became close, their demeanors were more relaxed with the other. Bruce sighed in relief when he saw the two of them practicing gymnastics together. He wondered what had prompted the change, but wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. (Although he had suspicions that it had to do with himself, because there were a few times when they couldn’t stop laughing when he entered the room.) 

He was happy for them. 

Especially when their close bond would help Jason with what was to happen next. 

\-----

Months passed and Jason relaxed into his life at the manor. Jason may never truly be comfortable in this new lifestyle, but at least he learned that he could rely on others. Years passed and things felt easy between the two of them. They became better at communicating with each other, found activities to do with one another (fighting and sparring was Jason’s favorite), and became comfortable in each other’s space. 

Bruce got comfortable. 

Too comfortable. 

It started when Jason received a box of his things from the group home he had last stayed in. They had been cleaning the place and found it buried. There were the normal papers inside (logs of Jason’s past homes and behaviors), a few knick knacks, but most surprisingly, it held a clue to finding Jason’s birth mother. Located in a little black book Jason’s dad owned, were the faded names of potential family members. 

Jason had flat out said that he wasn’t interested in living somewhere else, but he couldn’t help but want to unravel the mysteries the black book offered. Jason did his research and crossed out name after name. Most of them he could figure out without even leaving Gotham. 

The last few…

“Egypt?”

Jason nodded. “Spring break is coming up and I was wondering…” He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Does this have to do with your search?” Bruce asked, even though he had a good idea of the answer. Egypt was certainly odd, but if all Jason’s contacts in Gotham weren’t panning out it was only time that they would start going out. Still. Egypt. 

Jason nodded and Bruce’s plan only solidified in his mind. 

“Okay, then. Let’s go together? No running off on your own,” Bruce said. 

Jason grinned, his smile bright. It was one of the brightest grins that Bruce has ever seen on him. The young man was more likely to give him small smiles and smirks. Bruce was happy to do this with Jason. 

“Make sure to plan an itinerary for us,” Bruce added on. 

And Jason gleefully pumped his fist and immediately started planning. 

\-----

Normally, Jason would have made some smart comments about traveling first class, but today he was vibrating with energy. He stared out the window and crammed snacks into his mouth. 

“First time out of the country?” Bruce asked. 

Which he knew it was. They had needed to get Jason’s passport and inoculations ready before the trip.

Jason couldn’t help a snort, “Bruce, this is one of my first times out of Gotham, let alone the country.” 

Bruce nodded. That wasn’t too strange. Bruce had only first traveled abroad after he had graduated, for his self-discovery journey. He realized that the circumstances were different, but this did remind Bruce of his own trip. He hoped Jason’s journey would hold the same amount of discovery without as many injuries. 

\-----

Bruce wished that he was proven wrong. 

\-----

He was numb. 

The sun was scorching his back and his hands were torn apart, but somehow, Bruce was unfeeling. He couldn’t hear the raggedy breaths he was taking, only his heart pounding in his ears as he continued digging through the rubble. All he saw was sand and rock until- a slash of red. 

Fuck! That was blood and it wasn’t Bruce’s. 

He dug faster. 

Following the angle of the blood splatter eventually led him to-

_ Jason _ . 

At first, all he could see was a dead body in front of him, Jason’s body splayed out with mottled bruises, his shirt covered in blood (Bruce’s parents were laying on the ground, their eyes glassy and their bodies completely still-) 

Jason groaned. 

Bruce picked him up, taking care to be as gentle as possible. As soon as the boy was secure in his arms (he couldn’t allow himself to think about all of Jason’s injuries, how severe they were, even though he couldn’t help cataloguing each of them in his mind) Bruce ran to get help. He didn’t care how crazy or undignified he looked, he just started yelling and luckily help came to him. 

Bruce cradled Jason’s hands in his own. 

He didn’t want to lose him. 

\-----

Jason made it. 

That was what was important (not the orbital fracture, the concussion, the blood loss, the second and third degree burns, the broken and cracked bones- Bruce memorized every injury). Bruce’s feelings were inconsequential (his anger at the situation and his all-consuming fear); they were second to Jason’s. And when Jason came to, Bruce made sure to push down his feelings to listen to whatever Jason told him. 

Thankfully, Jason wanted to talk and even liked the near interrogation from Bruce about what happened. He got to talk about how he met his mother. How lovely she was. Her research in the area. And the terrorist attack that had blown up the building Jason was in. 

“I was lucky.” Jason rasped. “I always knew how to read a room, but you cranked up my observational skills to match my paranoia,” he said, a smile on his lips. Bruce tried to smile too, but the joke was lost on him in the face of Jason’s injuries.

“There was a mosquito buzz, but the area is too dry for the bugs. I knew the source of the sound was electronic. But the building doesn’t have electricity. When I heard it get louder I ducked for cover. Unfortunately, I was right to do so,” Jason finished, his voice weak. 

He talked some more, fighting for each word, but refused to stop even though his lips were still cracked and dry and his throat rough from disuse. Bruce kept listening. 

But all too soon Jason’s eyelids were drooping and his voice was fading. And as usual, Jason got the last word in.

“Bruce? Did.. My mom come to see me?”

“No,” Bruce answered. 

Jason made a soft noise of disappointment before falling asleep. 

\-----

There was no word or whisper of Jason’s mother. Bruce had a few theories (most of them not positive) but none confirmed. The hospital was full. Many were injured. Those that could recognize her didn’t know where she was, which was perfectly logical but made Bruce’s stomach turn sour. 

In the end, they didn’t find her again. 

\-----

When they got back, they’re almost assaulted by the media. They find out later that a picture of Bruce carrying Jason’s injured body had made it to Gotham. 

“Mister Wayne! Do you know about the child endangerment lawsuit that’s being brought to your door?” 

“Mister Wayne! Mister Wayne! What do you have to say about the allegations that you haven’t been a proper parent to Jason and Richard!”

“Jason! Are you really going to stay with the man who almost got you killed!” 

Jason snarled at that last reporter and only then was Bruce able to pull himself together and have them escape the questioning. 

“Mister Wayne! Why did you let Jason go to such a dangerous place!”

The questions would follow Bruce and Jason everywhere. 

\-----

By the time they came back to Gotham, summer break for semester universities had started. And so at the manor they were greeted by more than one familiar face. 

“Dick,” Jason exhaled and let himself fall into his older brother’s arms. 

They clung to each other in the receiving room and Bruce walked away, letting them have their space. “Look after them for me, Alfred,” Bruce said, when the man tried to follow him. Alfred paused, then nodded. 

Bruce had work to do. 

\-----

“You have to talk to him, Bruce.” 

The first one to confront him isn’t Alfred, nor Jason, but Dick. Dick cornered him in his Wayne Industries office after a meeting. The young man was looking at him with determined eyes, ones that won’t let him run away from this conversation. 

(Bruce can almost hear their therapist repeating the phrase ‘clear communication is key’.) 

Bruce sighed. They had done this song and dance many times before and he knew what to do. He checked to make sure he had no standing appointments or meetings (he didn’t, Dick probably made sure of that) and sighed. Then he took off his jacket, took off his tie, and loosened his cuffs (Dick was in casual clothes and Bruce wanted to match him for this conversation). Then he sat down on the couch in his office (the ugly one that he bought specifically because Dick said it was a good napping couch). 

Dick sat next to him. “Jason thinks that he messed up.” 

“He didn’t. I was the one who messed up,” Bruce replied. 

“Yeah- no, wait, I mean, neither of you messed up. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself for a terrorist attack,” Dick said. “And if you blame yourself, then you need another appointment with the therapist.”

“I’ll schedule one,” Bruce said to make Dick happy. Bruce definitely would, but that wasn’t the main issue here. “However, doesn’t the responsibility of bringing Jason to such an incredibly dangerous place fall on me?”

“Uh, no,” Dick said. “The terrorist threat wasn’t publicly known, and at the time they weren’t active in the area. And you guys were just at a research site, right? You couldn’t have known.”

But Bruce did know. He researched the area extensively, and had extrapolated that there might be potential threats in the area, but thought the odds were good enough to bring Jason anyway. And hadn’t Bruce done the same when he was only a few years older? Run into dangerous places at a whim? That and he didn’t want to be the one obstructing Jason from his search. 

Dick read the guilt on Bruce’s face and said, “Look, if kids don’t belong in dangerous places, there shouldn’t be any kids in Gotham right?” 

Bruce nodded. That.. definitely made sense. And Dick would know best.

Something in Bruce’s expression must satisfy Dick because he moved away from the conversation. 

And while Bruce was successfully convinced that living in Gotham wasn’t the issue for Jason, he wasn’t convinced that Bruce was the best choice for Jason. 

\-----

The issue came to a head when a legitimate investigation about Bruce’s (and Alfred’s) ability to raise Jason (and Dick) was raised. 

The four of them sat down after dinner to discuss things. 

“Fuck! I wish everyone would just leave us alone,” Jason said, flopping onto the couch. However his actions betrayed his harsh words as he crossed his arms and curled into the corner of the couch. 

“Language,” Alfred admonished gently. Jason tossed him a look. “Although I understand that it’s appropriate for the situation,” he conceded. 

Jason grumbled before craning his neck to look at his older brother. “Dick, do you want to sit down?” 

Dick shook his head and continued his circular pacing around the three of them. They left him be. He always did better in motion. 

“So obviously this is bullshit, right? Bruce, you’ll do something about this right?” Jason asked. 

“I will,” Bruce said and everyone eased at his words. “But that depends on what you want Jason.”

“I just want all these people to get out of our face,” Jason grumbled. 

Bruce shook his head. “No, I meant, do you want to stay here?”

The room fell silent. 

“Master Bruce…” Alfred trailed off. 

“Bruce, what are you saying?” Dick asked. 

Jason’s face flashed through a series of expressions (anger, hurt, sadness, and then disgust). 

“So that’s how you’re gonna play it, huh, Bruce,” Jason said. “At the first sign of trouble to your reputation, that’s when you toss me away. Don’t want to bribe the officials?”

Jason looked like he was gearing up to rant more when Bruce softly said, “Wouldn’t you prefer to live with your mom?” 

The young man’s mouth shut with an audible click and he looked bewildered. The room fell silent at the proclamation. 

“I thought,” Dick started slowly, “That she wasn’t found in the aftermath.”

“She hasn’t been.. I- haven’t found her yet,” Bruce admitted. 

“Is that why you’ve been holding up in the study? Bruce, come on,” Dick said, his brows furrowed. 

“No, that’s why he’s been so fucking cold lately,” Jason spat, “You don’t want me to stay.” 

“Of course I want you to stay, Jason,” Bruce said, slowly. “But I also want to you to have a choice-”

“THEN RESPECT MY FUCKING CHOICE!” Jason yelled, jumping up to his feet, “All you have to do is believe me! And know that I want to stay! Holy shit, Bruce! And- and- STOP FUCKING INVESTIGATING EVERYTHING! You don’t need to know everything! Not at our expense!” 

“You just- you just have to trust us,” Jason, finished, his voice cracking. 

Bruce didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like Jason was wrong. 

Especially when Alfred couldn’t meet his eyes and Dick nodded along. 

But before Bruce could gather his thoughts (he was always so slow when it came to important conversations), Jason turned away. “I’m gonna clear my head,” he said gruffly. 

Dick followed him, while Alfred stayed, not that Bruce deserved it. 

“I think I need some time alone, Alfred,” Bruce said, quietly. 

Alfred hesitated, before nodding and briskly walking out of the room. 

It was true that Bruce liked knowing as much as he could about a situation. Of course he knew that there was a limit to knowledge, but this was the first time that Jason brought up how much he disliked the habit. There were other times where Bruce’s instigative nature had resulted in gentle (worried) inquiries (by Alfred, Dick, and Jim), but this was the first time he had been confronted about it. 

Bruce shook his head. His invasive investigating wasn’t even the biggest issue at the moment. He had CPS, the press, and most importantly Jason to worry about. He should be worrying about that. 

(But wasn’t the issue of his investigative nature the easiest problem to solve at the moment? There was no reason not to mull over it. And so, in between all the other work, he brooded.) 

\-----

They manage to deal with CPS who manage to conclude that Jason won’t be leaving unless he wanted to. Jason didn’t want to. However, Jason was mad and stayed mad at Bruce, even after the harassment and media hype died down. The rift between Jason and Bruce had widened during this incident and only seemed to be growing larger. 

The way their relationship didn’t heal right was obvious; there was now an underlying tension between them that Bruce didn’t know how to fix. Where once they were comfortable with each other, they now rubbed wrong. It became difficult for them to talk to each other without a fight starting. 

This would continue until Jason graduated high school and moved out for university. 

And would continue even after others would come into their lives. (Tim, Stephanie, Cassandra, Damian…)

They should have fixed things, Bruce should have tried harder. It wasn’t good for either of them and it affected the others (god, was it obvious to the others that they didn’t get along). With no change in sight, Bruce became afraid that they would always have this dynamic to their relationship forever. 

So did everyone else. 

At one point or another, everyone tried to solve the issue. They tried everything, from group bonding, family nights, and, once Jason was bigger, letting Bruce and Jason beat the tar out of one another. (No method worked for too long.) 

Until, Injustice. 

\-----

When Bruce first met Hiro, the young innovator had already created over a dozen games including a Triple-A video game title, invented a very popular app, and had been named one of the ‘most creative persons of the year’ by The Person magazine, all before the age of 14. 

The first time they crossed paths was at a random gala in Gotham. Bruce had distinctly remembered seeing the boy, one head shorter than almost everyone in the room yet already charming and schmoozing with everybody in sight. Not that he needed to try hard. Hiro “Toyman” Okamura had already proven himself to be a genius that others could ride their coattails on if he would let them. People were coming to the boy in droves to see if they could get an in. 

Bruce, however, found himself unwilling to talk to the kid when there were so many vultures around him. He would have to make his greetings eventually (especially since Tim was thinking about expanding his video game division), but he needed food and maybe a stiff drink first. 

\-----

“Hey, where did you get that?” 

Bruce was in a relatively secluded corner (but not secluded enough to be called anti-social), eating, when Hiro Okamura materialized before him. The boy (god, he’s half his height and so skinny) was pointing at his plate. 

“Where’d you get an uncut sandwich?” Hiro clarifies.

“I have an in with the caterers,” Bruce admitted slowly. 

“Is there any way you can score me something substantial?” Hiro asked, eyes still glued to Bruce’s normal sized (and not tiny) sandwich. 

Bruce handed over half. “I can. Just don’t show everyone what you have.”

“Got it,” Hiro said, giving Bruce a finger-gun. 

(Bruce found himself charmed and very much aware of the boy’s age. He wanted to feed him all the sandwiches.)

Bruce discreetly asked one of the servers to bring a plate of food for Hiro while the kid stayed with him. The half sandwich disappears in an instant and Hiro started making conversation with Bruce to fill the silence. As soon as he started talking, Bruce could see why Hiro was such an up and coming name. The kid was chatty, a fast-talker, but had charisma coming out of his pores. He was also clearly intelligent, but not in an off-putting way. It only added to his likability. Meeting him in person, Bruce can see why Hiro had so many hanger-ons at the party. 

And now all that attention was directed at Bruce and only Bruce. It reminded him of when the kids were younger and still thought the world of him, which in turn made his mood lift. (He may have kept the conversation going just to bask in the kid’s attention for a little longer.)

Hiro seemed thrilled by the attention and went from one subject to another, showing off his knowledge of everything, including Gotham and Wayne Industries. Bruce easily kept up with the conversation. (Hiro looked particularly delighted that Bruce knew more than him in a subject: Gotham.) 

Eventually they left the little eating nook after Hiro had his fill and they separated. Bruce did so reluctantly, but knew he had more socializing he needed to do. However, he almost stayed when Hiro was visibly sad to leave the conversation. Thankfully Hiro easily bounces back to charming others at the gala. 

Bruce smiled and gave a mental thanks to the young man. He probably won’t be having any more interesting conversations like that one for the rest of the evening. 

But of course, Bruce was proven wrong. 

Tim and Bruce were chatting softly by themselves, about to go home when a familiar voice called out to them:

“Tim Drake-Wayne! Just the man I wanted to see!”

For a split second, Tim looked like he was taken aback, but he quickly smoothed over his expression. (Tim was too practiced in the ways of high society to look surprised for long, even after being confronted by the famous thirteen year-old in front of him.) “Am I?” Tims asked, sounding amused. 

“Yeah!” Hiro grinned, unabashed. “I heard you’re the one I should talk to about Wayne Industries’ new video game division.” 

Tim met Bruce’s gaze, a question in his eyes, before looking back at Hiro. “That’s right. Did you have interest in aligning yourself with Wayne Industries?”

Hiro laughed whole-heartedly, even throwing his head back. “Uh, yeah! I’ve always wanted to talk shop with a fellow programmer my age!” 

This time, Tim can’t help a smile from spreading across his face. “Yeah- I mean, yes. I would love to talk shop.”

Hiro threw him another smile before diving right in. “What’s your opinion on the most recent Eurogame winner? I thought giving the award to a company that already proved that they could make the same procedural game wasn’t very unique, especially after I tried all the other games that were up for nomination…”

An odd topic. Board games were a different field than video games (although Bruce supposes that all entertainment was in Hiro’s wheelhouse), but Tim managed to keep up with the conversation. (Board games were one of the only things that the Waynes and family friends could do without too many incidents.) 

Tim's eyes actually sparkled with interest once he managed to relax. Upon seeing Tim start to enjoy the conversation, Bruce resigned himself to more socializing. He did his duty, solemnly. (Although Bruce was secretly happy that Tim has found someone his own age to connect with.) 

But by the end of the night, the two were still talking and Bruce was loath to interrupt. However, he did because the party was winding down and they should leave before they see anything they don’t want to. (The after parties really weren’t appropriate for minors.)

“Will you be joining us for a late dinner, Hiro?” Bruce asked when the conversation managed to come to a lull. 

“Yeah! That would be great if you guys know any place that’s open this late,” Hiro said. 

“I’m sure we can find a Big Belly Burger, worst comes to worst,” Bruce said, eliciting a small ‘yes’ from Tim. “Where are you staying the night? We’ll pick somewhere close.” 

“Oh, I don’t have a place yet. I was going to wing it,” Hiro shrugged. 

Bruce and Tim share a look. That was never a good idea in Gotham.

“Well, we can make a recommendation if you want to follow us in our car,” Tim suggested. 

“Oh, I don’t have a car either. I can call a taxi or something.”

Ooph. An even worse idea. 

“Ride with us,” Tim said. “We can look for hotels while we’re eating.”

“Sounds great!” 

Thankfully, Hiro didn’t take any offense to Bruce and Tim’s obvious meddling. And the trip didn’t turn awkward at all. Instead, Hiro filled the car with questions and chatter and they continued to talk even though Hiro’s exhausted a lot of conversation topics already. He compliments the car and the modifications made to it, asked about the city, and talked about food. 

They do end up at a Big Belly Burger (the Waynes always sneak in a little bit of junk food when Alfred wasn’t driving) which suited the three of them just fine. They eat in their gala clothes in the empty restaurant, the conversation continuing through their meal. When the evening turns to early morning, they invite Hiro to stay at the manor. He accepted. 

\-----

The next day at breakfast, Hiro proved himself to be as sociable and charming as the night before. The kids who were staying at the manor quickly find themselves liking the innovator and after finding out he didn’t have any concrete plans (at all, apparently he’s in between projects), he got an invitation to stay. Hiro accepted, although he apparently only wanted to stay until his next project. 

Maybe it was inevitable that by spending more time in the manor he became fast friends with Tim and the other Waynes. Enough so that Tim and Hiro start designing a video game together. But when they finish that project, they start another. They do this over and over, until Hiro decided to buy an apartment in Gotham. However even with the apartment, Hiro was a regular in the manor, dropping by and staying there so often that it was like he was living there anyway. 

Somehow, with Hiro’s presence, their ‘family nights’ became easier. There was something special about having him that made everything more fun. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t care for the awkward dynamics of their family. Maybe it was because he genuinely loved it when people had fun. Or maybe it was because he picked the perfect games for everybody to play, many of them Hiro’s own creations. 

Either way, Family Night became less of an obligation and more of something everyone can look forward to. Enough that Jason started coming again at the behest of the others. And even he can’t stay too bitter in Hiro’s presence. Slowly, Jason relaxed in Bruce’s presence and came to the manor on his own. 

It helped that one of the kids’ favorite activities was roasting Bruce. It became a game to try and suggest a way to insert a good-natured joke about Bruce in Hiro and Tim’s games as easter eggs. (Bruce protested, but secretly was very pleased that something so simple can make everyone laugh.) 

To him, it was a miracle that Jason will come over at all. Maybe he and Bruce weren’t at the point of reconciling, but things were easier between them. 

When Hiro and Tim were ready to take their video games to the next level (Hiro had said that with a laugh), it’s an easy choice for Bruce to throw in his support. Their next project sounded ambitious (a superhero/villain MMORPG), but he had faith and enough goodwill to let them try it with Wayne Industry resources. 

Plus a bigger project meant more planning and scheming, which equated to more gatherings at the manor. Many days were spent brainstorming ideas for everything from characters to features. And Bruce spent those days watching his kids be happy. 

Injustice was a labor of love and Bruce would do anything to keep it going if it would keep everyone together. 


	7. Bruce and Zero Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: ~4.5k

_ A handsome middle-aged man with white hair looks at the camera. It’s Gotham news reporter Mike Engel reporting from what looks like the front of a press-conference. The stage is empty, although the backdrop is a combined Wayne Industries and Toyman Games logo. _

_ “Welcome to the channel GTM7, this is Mike Engel here with the latest news.  _

_ “I’m here at the joint press conference between the two companies, Toyman Games and Wayne Industries. As some of our viewers may know, Wayne Industries is one of the most lucrative companies in Gotham, dealing with product lines in all different sectors from medical devices to computer parts and has recently teamed up with Toyman Games to take on the video game industry. With Hiro Okamura at the helm, Wayne Industries helped release the game, Injustice, which has hundreds of millions of players world-wide. The game has been widely successful, with no sign of its success slowing down, until now. _

_ “Just recently, an event has occurred in game called Zero Day which has affected every single player online. An event that was meant to be fun instead devastated the players and the environment in game. _

_ “Outraged at the events, players are asking just what happened to cause such mass destruction. _

_ “Right now, the creators Hiro Okamura and Timothy Drake-Wayne, along with a few of the game’s other designers, are holding a press-conference to address these issues. Will it turn out to be a game glitch or a more serious issue like a Wayne Industries’ equipment malfunctions?” _

_ Mike Engel holds a hand to his ear. _

_ “It sounds like the press-conference is about to start.” _

_ The camera pans away and refocuses on the stage. Several people are seated, but in focus are Hiro Okamura and Timothy Drake-Wayne. They start a rehearsed speech, brief and to the point about how the in-game event was a glitch caused by unforeseen progress in the game. The event was triggered early, which was a mistake on the developers’ part and not of that of Wayne Industries. Drake-Wayne does most of the talking while Okamura sits with a wan expression. _

_ When they’re open for questions, most of the questions directed towards them either deal with Hiro’s ‘incompetence’ or insinuate shoddy products from Wayne Industries.  _

_ However, despite their young age, Hiro Okamura and Timothy Drake-Wayne are professionals and answer each question with grace. They present a united front for both companies and don’t allow the reporters to rip into them too terribly. _

_ Until: _

_ “What about Superman?”  _

_ “Excuse me?” Drake-Wayne says.  _

_ “What about Superman?” The reporter repeats. “The player that caused Zero Day? What relation does he have with the game?” _

_ Okamura can’t stop his lips from twisting, his expression changing from it’s norm. Drake-Wayne leans forward to answer the questions. “We want to reiterate that no single player was the cause of the game’s events. Due to  _ **_our_ ** _ short foresight, any player could have triggered the in-game event.” _

_ And while that might have quelled the reporters normally, they all scented another story in the air. After all, the headline that initially brought them here was of a player ‘breaking’ the game. If the creators weren’t going to reveal how, perhaps the player could shed some light on the subject.  _

_ -Breaking News report from GMT7, reported by Mike Engel _

\-----

Zero Day. 

The day started like any other. And the day was almost like any other for Bruce. But looking back, he realized that it was this day that started a new chapter in his family’s life. 

\-----

Bruce was up late (as usual) when the notifications started pouring in. The alerts themselves weren't too unusual, he had an alert out for all of his family, friends, and their projects. Normally, he would receive at least two or three alerts a day (most of them about Hiro). If there were more, then he usually knew the reason why and expected it. 

But this many unexpected alerts?

That was unprecedented. 

(Dammit. Hopefully he doesn’t have to post bail for anyone again.) 

But the alerts looked a bit more significant than speculation from paparazzi and Bruce’s stomach swooped in worry. He sincerely hoped that nothing serious had happened. 

Bruce went to his home office in order to investigate properly on his computer. Trawling through the alerts, Bruce noticed that most of them were about Injustice. Maybe it was an in game event? Odd, he hadn’t seen any scheduled. Maybe the alerts were about a person connected to the game? That tended to happen when micro-celebrities and artists attached themselves to the kids’ projects. There was a flood of ‘Superman’ tags so that was the most likely hypothesis, but...

LET’S PLAYER BREAKS INJUSTICE? 

That was never a good title for an article. But Bruce continued and read:

AN UNEXPECTED ALIEN IN THE GAME

Okay, something to do with the game. That might not be as terrible as Bruce had been expecting. 

The article was short, written by a blogger that Bruce didn’t recognize. It was one of the many articles that flooded the game news website about: a player ‘breaking’ the game. 

Bruce quickly logged into his Injustice admin account and checked the servers. They were all up and running. Then he ran a diagnostic and found nothing that suggested a bug or glitch. There were some odd numbers in the report, but he didn’t know enough of the game to say if there was an issue or not. Bruce joined a player streaming the ‘horror’ live in-game. 

At first, Bruce thought he was looking at some old ruins. It wouldn’t be out of place in No Man’s Land or The Haven. Then he realized he was looking at the ruins of The City. 

The camera/player moved around erratically, not allowing Bruce a good look at the game world and he quickly loaded a few other streams. All of them looked similar, no matter which territory they were in. Large swaths of the land were cratered and turned to rubble. There were fires burning in the background. In a brief glimpse of the pictures of Oceanis revealed a giant hole in the middle of the ocean. NPCs were huddled together in terror, a multitude of mission alerts in the air as the players tried to fulfill them all. 

What had happened? 

It was 4am. Normally, he wouldn’t message the kids during this time, but it was extenuating circumstances. 

“I’m already awake,” Hiro said into the phone. There was some tapping and it was clear that Hiro was already on his computer. 

“I’m here too,” said Tim, who Bruce had been originally calling. 

“What’s your status?” 

“I was already awake when the alerts started pouring in,” Tim said with an audible yawn. He was working too hard again. 

“I was woken up by the PR team,” Hiro answered. Bruce would speak to them about that. “Then the programming team, then the server monitoring team- Anyways, I was not going to stay asleep for long.” 

Bruce scowled. The situation sounded serious, but those teams could have waited until normal business hours to call. As soon as he was done with Tim and Hiro, he would talk to the others. 

Bruce listened to the two go back and forth, until a decision was made. Hiro and Tim would go to the office, while Bruce distracted the Wayne Industries PR team until the two could figure out what had happened. 

Bruce barely managed to distract them from the boys; they came to him with frantic messages about the game ‘breaking’ and how the media was tearing the project apart. Without the right information Bruce wouldn’t give them to the go ahead to try and mitigate the damage. They had to wait out the media storm, which continued to rage without any signs of stopping. It looked like a story involving the incompetence of Wayne Industries and Hiro Okamura was too good to pass up. 

Unfortunately, the story started to spread beyond the tech and business news, catching into mainstream media. They started having everyone from television shows to trashy reporters banging on their doors for a quote. 

The employees at Wayne Industries were used to the attention (Bruce thought it came with him being the CEO), but the employees at Toyman Games were unprepared. They unintentionally gave out information, which caused the media fire to catch longer, and leaked the name of the event: Zero Day. 

Luckily, Tim and Hiro quickly rallied and called a conference. They met in a Wayne Industries meeting room packed with PR specialists, Wayne Industry officials, and the management of Toyman Games. 

Hiro and Tim sat at the front, while Bruce was to the side. 

“Obviously, the team and I plan in-game events before they happen,” Hiro started. Immediately, everyone in the room snapped to attention and quieted to hear the young man. “The skeleton of events are placed in the game prior to their launch for testing. We move the events back and forth in order to add, modify, and fix things. Zero Day just happened to be one of those events.”

Immediately, someone piped up, “But this in-game event feels different. More extreme. A lot of players died, and quite a lot of damage was done in-game.” 

Damage, that wouldn’t be fixed automatically. To make the game more realistic, all damage had to be fixed by NPCs or players in-game. 

“Because we hadn’t planned for Zero Day to happen yet,” Hiro said with a shrug. 

The nonchalance stirred up the group, but Tim jumped in before things got unruly. 

“Many of our in-game events have conditions before starting. Most we’ve predicted and can plan for, however Zero Day’s event was triggered almost one-year earlier than expected. That’s why no one was prepared,” Tim explained with a tired sigh. 

Bruce fought the urge to stop the meeting. Tim (and Hiro) were both exhausted. A person didn’t need to be a detective to see that; their eyes were dark from lack of sleep, Tim was chugging coffee like it was water, and Hiro was more manic than usual. Clearly, the consequences of Zero Day were affecting them. 

“Can you explain a little more about how the event was triggered? We need to release our own statement soon to combat all the current media,” a person from PR said. 

“Sure, sure,” Hiro bobbed his head, “Zero Day was activated-“ 

“Before we go into detail,” Tim interrupted before Hiro could gather steam, “I would like to mention that we are not blaming the players involved with the event. I know that the media is now putting some of the players under a microscope and that is the opposite of what we want.” 

“Oh yeah, good thinking, Tim. In fact, everyone just say it was the developers’ fault, my fault in particular. That’ll get the media attention off the players,” Hiro said, nonchalantly. 

Tim winced visibly and Bruce’s frown deepened. The others muttered in agreement. 

Bruce hated the media’s obsession with Hiro. They lauded his achievements, but took every opportunity they could to tear him apart. Hiro said he was ‘used to it’ and frequently used it to his advantage, like now, taking whatever media attention off the poor player that got roped into this media circus. Although it was likely that Hiro’s and Wayne Industries’ involvement with the game made Zero Day such a big deal to involve mainstream media. 

But Bruce didn’t say a word as Tim and Hiro continued to give a rundown on what happened. This information would be changed to suit their needs but the dry-run was:

The developers had created several events that were meant to activate once certain conditions were met. Most of them were ported back and forth for testing. It just so happened that a player had accidentally triggered an event no one thought was going to happen for some time. As a result the in-game event was not well balanced, or edited. (The writing for some of the characters and the dialogue was.. Strong. Unpolished.) 

Zero Day was meant to activate three months after the first territory had been conquered by a player. 

The reasoning was: once one area was conquered, other areas would follow. Then the game algorithm would create an appropriate backstory for why aliens would want to attack these players. The aliens would have appropriate powers that were on a slightly higher level than the players in question. And as usual, the NPC territory heroes would be slotted away in a different plot so that the players could take front and center of the event. 

But what they didn’t account for was one player gaining a territory so early in the game. As a result, the algorithm generated a story for only one player and no others. Not only that, apparently this player had very impressive stats. 

“The player in question was also a combat hero, which made it so that the alien invaders were too high a level for the other characters to deal with and contain,” Hiro explained, while Tim nodded. “That’s why this event was so interesting-“ Tim gives him a subtle jab under the desk, “-Messy. I meant to say terrible and messy.” 

The people in the room take notes and discuss now what they should do moving forward, muttering about this and that. Bruce listened, noting things down so he can make sure everything can proceed smoothly, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the boys. Hiro was chugging a soda, no doubt to soothe his overtaxed throat, while Tim clutched his coffee mug like a lifeline. 

“What about the player?” Someone piped up again. 

Hiro and Tim looked wearily back at the crowd. 

“Why was the player- the Let’s Player from Kansas, um, Clark Kent, goes by Superman in-game, why was he at such a high level? The game should be balanced right?” 

Bruce bristled at the slight against Tim and Hiro’s programming prowess. 

Tim and Hiro don't seem to share his concerns as they answer the question.

“We haven’t looked at the game logs yet,” Tim answered, slowly. 

“But judging by his profile, he’s an avid player. Playing video games is a full time job for him, and he has a whole team he works with, it’s not so surprising,” Hiro added. 

The group accepted the answer although many of them looked disappointed. Most of them were looking for a more interesting story to intrigue the masses. The meeting continued until they finalized a battle plan and agreed to a press conference. 

As soon as they were done, Bruce whisked the two away. They were so tired they accepted a ride to their office, even though said office was barely a five minute walk away. Bruce bundled them up in the limo. 

“Did the meeting go all right?” Alfred asked, looking at them through the rearview mirror. The butler shared a glance with Bruce and seemed to know exactly where to drive (not the office).

Hiro stretched out in the seat with a groan, while Tim slouched despite being buckled. 

“It went alright,” Hiro said. “I don’t get why everyone is going crazy over this, especially when this is exactly what I was aiming for in the first place.”

Tim blew out a puff of air. “But unpredictability isn’t what the shareholders and investors want to hear,” Tim said, his tone flat. He didn’t want to pander to them, but he knew what they wanted. 

“Uh, that’s the whole point of this game: to push our algorithm generator. I’d say the last event proved they were a success,” Hiro shrugged. 

“I heard the event destroyed more than 25% of the environment, Mr. Okamura,” Alfred said pleasantly from the driver’s seat. “Is that your idea of a success?”

“Of course! And come on Alfred, you know it’s Hiro.” Hiro immediately said. “Besides, the event didn’t break the game. That’s the worst case scenario, the destruction of every player. If that were the case then we’d have to do a reset and potentially destroy how the game was learning. This event tested the boundaries of all the programming we did and the players beat the event in the end. So yeah, win-win.”

Hiro’s tone was a tad smug as he shared his opinion. He wasn’t exactly wrong, it wasn’t the worst case scenario and the event did show off their impressive programming. He loved it when his creations pushed boundaries. To Hiro, the game was a vehicle of improvement. He could build it up or take it apart.

Most people didn’t understand that. 

Tim elbowed Hiro. “Yeah, it’s win-win, except for the fact that we have so much work to do now.”

“Ow! You and your pointy elbows,” Hiro whined. “Yeah, cleaning up is going to be a pain in the ass-”

Alfred cleared his throat. 

“Sorry, it’s going be a  _ fucking _ pain in the-”

The car jerked in a sudden stop, choking Hiro from his last words. 

“We’ve arrived,” Alfred said, dryly. 

The two young men looked out the window and finally noticed that they had not been driven to their office, but another part of Gotham. They weren’t even in the business district anymore, but in a gentrified, trendier area filled with shops and restaurants. 

Tim recognized where they were first. 

“Bruce, we’re at The Fig Tree? Isn’t this restaurant kinda.. pretentious?” Tim asked. 

Hiro craned his neck. “How pretentious?” 

“Hipster, all food is locally sourced and fair trade, but honest in their intent. And very expensive,” Bruce answered. “Come on, let’s get some real food in you two.” 

The place really was a bit of a hipster stereotype, and Tim and Hiro became more energetic while they snarked about the decor and the food. Thankfully, the food was good and filling, and their moods lifted. When the employees came over for selfies, the two of them were smiling. 

By the time they were dropped off at the office, the two of them were ready to take on the world. 

Bruce wished that it was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t. At least Bruce could take care of them for just a little while.

However, the work wasn’t done so he has Alfred send out a dinner invitation to the family. The family will cheer the two up better than he can. 

\----

Dinner was Taco Tuesday, because it’s a Tuesday, and themed dinners always cheered up the whole family. And, Bruce can actually help out in the kitchen for this meal. It’s such short notice that he needed to pitch in, helping Alfred with prep: washing, chopping, dicing, stirring, grilling, anything that didn’t involve seasoning or cooking. 

In a show of solidarity, everyone managed to join them. 

Dinner turned into a quite a gathering and though Hiro and Tim were tired, the good cheer seemed to lift them up. They ate, talked, and partied. It was all in good fun, but the conversation inevitably turned to Injustice. 

This time, Hiro and Tim tell the unabridged version of what happened in a more relaxed manner, though the rest of the family looked confused at their explanation. 

“You guys are so careful about your game,” Dick said, verbalizing what everyone was thinking. “It’s so rare that you guys didn’t predict something on this scale. What happened?”

Hiro shrugged. “People go beyond our expectations, that’s all.” 

Tim rolled his eyes at the explanation, “It’s probably Hiro’s fault. He did add some pretty crazy stuff. I wouldn’t be surprised if that LPer, Superman, received a special item.” 

Hiro chuckled. “I haven’t checked the game logs yet, and I’m almost tempted not to. I like a good mystery. But then again, I already have a pretty good idea on what happened.”

“So there was something special about Superman?”

“What do you mean ‘crazy stuff’?” 

“Are you saying that the whole event could have been prevented?”

The kids talked over each other, trying to get an answer. It was a far cry from the impromptu conference from this morning, though. None of them were angry, only curious and some of them played the game themselves, so it wasn’t surprising that they wanted to know more about the cause of Zero Day. 

“You should tell them about what you did, Hiro,” Tim said with a nudge. 

Hiro nudged him back. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before,” he shot back. 

It was true. Hiro liked to put little Easter Eggs in his games, things that wouldn’t be necessary but made the game (and its creation) fun for Hiro. Bruce looked at Hiro’s mischievous expression and realized that whatever he had put in, was definitely something that wouldn’t be approved of. 

“Hiro, just what did you program into the game?” Bruce asked. 

The young man’s lips immediately turned up into a grin. “Do you really want to know?” He asked, playful. 

The whole table chroused ‘yes’ and Bruce nodded. 

Hiro settled into his seat to explain, his expression settling into something a little more serious. “The Infinity Die. The PreDictator, the Hand of Awkward Fate, the-” 

Tim jostled him lightly. “Just call it the Grab Bag like everyone else does. No need to be dramatic.”

“Psh, I made it, so I should get to name it,” Hiro said with a shrug. 

“But what does it do?” Stephanie asked, before the two could get into what sounded like a well-worn argument. 

“The ‘Grab Bag’, as Tim so eloquently puts it, is one of the many algorithms I’m testing out in the game. Nothing like it, very special, and I am definitely not supposed to be revealing this one to the public so don’t go spreading it around,” Hiro said around a mouthful of taco. 

“You do that well enough yourself, Okamura,” Damian said dryly. Some of the others snicker at the very true observation. 

“Yeah,” Hiro agreed. “But I know when to keep my secrets and what is acceptable to the general public. This algorithm is a special one. I already had it developed, but there was no way for me to test it without a large participant pool. But lo and behold, Injustice has millions of players who all agreed to the terms and conditions when they signed up. So of course I took advantage for this programming experiment, which might I add, was a rousing success.” 

The table fell silent. Bruce can barely believe himself what Hiro admitted to. The young man always had a mad scientist vibe about him, but it was one thing to be aware of it and another to be presented with proof. Most of the table looked wary, and with good reason. Many of them played the game. 

Tim sighed. “It’s a genius piece of programming.”

Hiro nodded along with the praise. 

Jason (who Bruce knew played the game) pointed his fork at them, “So are you going to tell us about this piece of programming you’ve subjected to every player in the game?” 

“It’s nothing too obtrusive, at least what I’m using it for,” Hiro said with a wave of his hand. “You see, there’s this beginner mission that guarantees an S-class rarity item, right? Well the reason why it’s S-class is because the item is unique and computer generated.” 

“That doesn't sound intrusive, but I could see how the game could be unbalanced,” Duke said. “That’s not like you.” 

Hiro puts his hand up placatingly. (It doesn’t quite work when there’s another taco in his hand with meat threatening to fall out onto his lap. He quickly catches it before it can.) “Here’s the fun part, I modified the behavior algorithm for the NPCs to take in the player’s behavior and engineer an item based on their past actions. Everything, from the past quests the players took, to their alignment, to how long it takes for them to make a decision, everything is filtered in, and an item is crafted for them. The algorithm is meant to predict an item for them that will help their gameplay, no matter what decisions they make in the future.” 

“Really?” Damian said with a frown. “How accurate is it?” 

“Very accurate,” Tim admitted (as if he had tested it and didn’t like the results). “Enough that it may predict something that a person may not like about themselves.” 

Silence again. 

“Will the players of the table tell everyone what item they received?” Damian called out. 

No one answered right away, most likely thinking about the item in question and what it said about themselves. Dick looked thoughtful. Jason was scowling. Duke looked accepting. Stephanie wrinkled her nose. (Bruce couldn’t help being interested in knowing what their items were. He hoped they offered up the information, because he would prefer not to have to go digging.) 

“So?” Damian asks with a perfectly raised eyebrow. 

Unsurprising, it’s Duke who answered first. “I got my motorcycle,” he offered. 

For those who don’t know Duke, they may think a motorcycle was a useful item, but not one that suited him. Duke, straight-A student and lover of puzzles, who at first glance might have received something that would help his more intellectual nature. 

For those that only know Duke as The Signal in-game, they might also think that a motorcycle is useful, but not the best accessory. With The Signal’s superpower set, maybe a weapon or armor might seem to be a better choice. But that was something that suited The Signal and not entirely Duke. 

However, those who knew Duke know that the young man was quite confident in his intellect and his ‘fighting’ abilities and wouldn’t want an item to enhance them. But a motorcycle was perfect. It was an item that could help Duke reach objectives faster, and he didn’t have to use it all the time. (It also helped that Duke was a thrill seeker.) 

Although, that was just Bruce’s analysis. 

More data would be useful to see if Bruce’s hypothesis was correct, but no one else offered up the information. 

“If you’re wondering, that’s how we decided that Wonder Woman would get the Lasso of Truth,” Hiro piped up. 

“Really? You did it for the territory heroes too?” One of the kids jumped at the chance to change the subject. 

“Yup. I already had the information from Diana so I popped in that info to get a super cool item for the territory heroes too…” 

Hiro jabbered on about the game as the others listened in. Eventually, they started talking about other subjects (as they usually did), from their progress in the game, to other mechanics that they enjoyed (that didn’t involve personality analyzing algorithms). All of the kids got pulled into the conversation. Hiro’s shoulders gradually relaxed as he continued to talk and eat without having to hold back. Tim also relaxed, finally out of the public’s attention; he didn’t have to be perfect anymore. They were in safe hands here, friends and family only. 

Looking at them, not quite carefree, but as close as they could get to it, soothed an anxious part of Bruce’s being. He couldn’t totally relax, not yet. But for now he was glad that the two boys were receiving support through these tough times. He (and everyone else) would look out for them. 

Bruce hoped that everything would blow over for them soon. 


	8. The aftermath of Zero Day and a confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags/Warnings: more descriptions from Zero Day, Bruce's mistrust of others
> 
> Word Count: ~6.7k

It was after the hundredth time that Bruce hears the man’s name that does it for him. 

Clark Kent. 

S. 

Superman. 

The name has already come up several times during the events following Zero Day, but the name continued to come up again and again. It came up when Tim and Hiro worked overtime to fix any future issues that might occur in game. Dick casually mentioned the name over a meal when they were talking about Injustice. Duke said he admired the man’s gameplay. Damian even mentioned the articles the man had written. Then the kids start making it a  _ bonding  _ experience to watch the man’s stream together. 

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. (Or in this case, Bruce’s patience.) 

Normally, Bruce was very secure with his relationship with his kids. He knew that there would always be a place for Bruce in their lives no matter how much time passed. But that didn’t mean that Bruce didn’t get jealous. 

Thankfully, most of the kids thought it was hilarious. They would laugh when Bruce got jealous over the oddest people that held even a little bit of their affection. Everyone from actors, celebrities, athletes, to even other adult mentors. They often teased him mercilessly for his irrational jealousy, but only if they caught him in the throws of it. 

Typically, the kids’ affection for this other person would wane or Bruce eventually became okay with the kids’ affection with the person in question. The former was more likely, while the latter was less likely. In fact, when the latter happened, it was either because Bruce eventually found the person admirable (it occasionally happened), or what was more likely was that Bruce would dig up terrible information about the person in question. Then Bruce would feel secure that his kid’s affection would never be as great for that person as it was for Bruce. 

(It wasn’t the nicest way of reassuring himself, but everyone agreed that better Bruce be emotionally stunted towards a person he might never meet than emotionally stunted towards one of the kids.) 

It looked like Bruce was going into old habits, because the kids’ affection for this so-called ‘Superman’ wasn’t going away. 

That man and his damn stream. If Bruce had to hear the man’s call phrase one more time, he was going to block the channel. 

(He wouldn’t dare. His kids knew how to circumvent the blocks easily and if they thought he was getting too snippy then they would just go watch the stream somewhere else other than the manor. Bruce definitely didn’t want that.)

Bruce might have eventually adjusted if the kids didn’t have the chance to meet the man:

“I’m thinking about inviting Clark Kent for an event,” Hiro casually mentioned. 

It was sushi night (Hiro’s treat, made by a chef that the boy personally knew) and Bruce was having a great meal. Of course that all changed after the bombshell Hiro dropped. 

“No way! Seriously? I would love to meet him!” Dick said with a smile. The others all agreed.

The chopsticks in Bruce’s hand creaked. 

“We’re thinking about sending an invitation to The Legion to be the guests for the next, but their invitation is contingent on Clark Kent coming,” Tim explained. 

“Ooo, I’m a pretty big fan of all the Legionnaires,” Harper said. 

“Me too!” 

The room dissolved into happy chatter about the next Toyman Games convention. They suggested various events, but Bruce noticed that it sounded like inviting Clark Kent was a sure thing. They were all so excited to meet him. And they wanted to invite him over and hang out with him and listen to him- 

Bruce needed to look into this further.

\-----

After dinner, Bruce holed up in his office. 

Judging by the excitement he had just left, the kids were still talking about the convention (and Clark Kent). There was no way that Hiro wouldn’t invite the man to the convention now. And if Hiro thought he could get the Legion and Clark Kent to his convention, then he had already planned a pitch that would guarantee their attendance. 

It was time to look into the man. 

Bruce used his considerable resources to look through all the (public) information about Clark Kent. He started with reading through fan-wiki articles, watched YouTube interviews, and even watched a few of the man’s introductory videos. 

Then he went a step further, looking up Kent’s LinkedIn and school profiles, related articles that mentioned him, his work history, his schooling, and of course the articles the man wrote himself. Bruce realized he had read some of them before. The man didn’t limit himself to game news, but covered a wide range of topics, from politics, technology, current events, and pop culture. Bruce often read a wide range of articles and Clark Kent’s articles were well-read enough (popular and good enough) to get caught in Bruce’s reading net. 

As Bruce finished off reading the rest of the man’s articles, he noticed that the same hopefulness that permeated the man’s gameplay also extended to the man’s writing. It must be a part of his personality. 

How could this man, who wrote about the best and worst parts of society, and who often worked in one of the most toxic industries, be so hopeful? 

It was.. suspicious. 

(Or was it? The fundamental difference between himself and Clark Kent- he hadn’t been hopeful in awhile- made Clark Kent look like a better role model for the kids. Even better than himself. How could Bruce compare?

Bruce had to shake the thought away.) 

It wasn’t enough for Bruce to learn about the man from his publications. He needed to interact with him. But how? 

Bruce needed to talk to Clark Kent before the event… meeting him directly wasn’t a possibility. He was trying to keep his investigations subtle (the kids definitely didn’t need to know about it), nothing too serious. Flying to Kansas to meet the man would be hard to cover-up. 

Interacting with Kent during his stream was more easily done. But it seemed unlikely that he could get any significant information with this method. Not to mention the kids frequently watched the stream, and it would be easy for them to guess that Bruce was the one leading an interrogation. 

Perhaps he could create a rapport by commenting on the articles on the man’s website? Hmph. Those were public too, and many of the kids also read Kent’s blog… 

Bruce slowly mulled over his next possible actions. He went through all of his options considering this and that until he came upon his best one. 

Bruce could play Injustice. 

He knew the game inside and out; he could make sure he was in a position to interact with Superman. There were certainly times that the man wasn’t streaming so he could arrange a meeting during those windows. Bruce could see for himself the man’s personality outside of the articles and his performances. 

Bruce paused. 

But if Bruce approached the man as a player, there was no way the man was going to let his guard down. A popular LPer like Superman was probably approached by fans all the time. 

Perhaps, instead of playing, Bruce could use another approach to be a part of Injustice. 

Yes, there was an option open to him that had a high chance of success. Now all Bruce had to do was secure that option and time his meeting with Superman correctly...

\-----

The remote connection took four days to set-up. It was longer than Bruce liked, but he needed to be careful so he wouldn’t alert anyone to his actions. To his knowledge, none of the kids (specifically Hiro and Tim) knew about his plans. He could now set it in motion.

Like Hiro’s Grab Bag algorithm, there were plenty of things about Injustice that weren't known to the public. While it was public knowledge that many of the NPCs in the game were based on real people, it was never officially announced that  _ all _ of the territory controllers were. Some NPCs were easy to figure out (Flash and Barry, Cyborg and Victor, Alan Draper and Tim), but some have been purposely obscufated to protect that person’s image. 

One character in particular came to mind. 

Batman. 

At the beginning of development, making an NPC for everyone in the family was a given. It didn’t matter whether or not the person was going to play, the resulting character usually turned out so goofy or out there that it was a completely different person. No matter how ridiculous the character turned out, Hiro and Tim decided that they would put the NPC in the game for kicks. And the kids loved tossing dumb and silly ideas around for each other. 

Of course, the most popular person to design a character for was Bruce himself. They had joked around for a while, but eventually they began to buckle down and decide something for him. They had picked a hero for him (they couldn’t imagine him as anything else) and started thinking about what powers he should have. They thought of everything: dad powers, the power of communicating with his eyebrows, the power of being obscenely rich, but when they finally asked Bruce what he wanted, Bruce knew exactly what to say:

“A detective.”

The kids laughed. 

“That makes sense.” “Give him super stalker skills.” “He can still be obscenely rich.”

They continued to joke around (“he should say stuff like,  _ I am the night _ ,” which would set off a round of giggles), but after determining that he should be a detective, they started forming an actual character. They figured out that the hero should be a detective in one of the worst crime-ridden territories (“obviously, because Gotham’s like a legit PVP zone”). The hero would have contrasting traits (“just like the real thing” someone joked), be a hero of a territory but without any powers. They would be dark and grim with fear as one of their greatest weapons, but used minimal violence and no killing in his arrests. The hero would have an alter-ego as one of the rich socialites in the territory. 

“This sounds great everyone, but what’s his superhero name going to be?” Hiro asked, looking up from his notes. 

Dozens of names were suggested and all of them shot down. 

(“Guys, we’re not naming him DarkAss. I could never get that past the censors, come on. Up your game if you want an insulting hero name.”)

Until:

“What about Batman?” Alfred casually dropped the name, as if he wasn’t bringing Bruce’s past nightmares to light. Bruce shot the man a glare. 

Hiro ‘oohed’ in interest. “I can definitely see dark, gothic imagery working for this character. Black and grays, sharp lines for the costume, but a cape to round out the silhouette, make it more like a shadow.” Hiro started a sketch. In moments he had a rough picture ready for them, a man who was clearly Bruce, encased in shadows, with a bat symbol on his chest. 

Everybody complimented Hiro on the sketch and how ‘it looks just like Bruce’. 

Bruce nodded along although he was internally grimacing. 

“Oh, that reminds me,” Dick said loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Bruce, didn't you used to have a phobia of bats? Something about.. An accident when you were young?

Trust Dick, the eldest, to remember that story. 

“Yeah, I think I remember that one. It’s why the well outside is closed sealed, right?” Jason piped up. 

All eyes were on Bruce, but it was Alfred who took up the thread of the conversation. 

“You see,” Alfred started, and all the kids turned as one to listen, “Back in Master Bruce’s childhood…”

And despite the fact that Alfred wasn't on anything like a stage, and he was still serving tea and snacks, he managed to tell the story with all of his mastery as a former actor. The kids listen with delight about the story of a young Bruce, falling into a well and being absolutely terrified of bats, until one day, he went down to confront them once more on his own terms. 

After the story, everyone has questions for him:

“Is that why you take us down to the cave?” 

“No wonder the bats like us, you feed them.” 

“That explains why you never filled in the well even though it’s a safety hazard.” 

“That’s going in Batman’s backstory for sure.” 

“Are you still scared of bats?” 

Bruce at least answered that question. 

“Bats and I have a healthy respect for one another,” Bruce said, avoiding the question completely. Because they did, and Bruce was not afraid of them. (They were, however, a reminder of his childhood and Bruce did his best not to brood over his childhood too much.)

“Okay, now we really have to name him Batman.” 

The kids laugh and they bicker a little more until they finish building a character that they would be happy to see in-game. At Bruce’s behest, they add a cowl so that the character didn’t look exactly like Bruce. Hiro scribbled it in and presented a new sketch: white, pointed eyes glaring out of a dark cowl. The cowl had pointy ears like a bat. 

Everyone laughed again. 

(Later, Dick would go and ask Bruce if he was okay being reminded of his childhood every single time the game was mentioned. Bruce would tell Dick that it was okay, because now he had better memories to go along with bats.)

Bruce pulled himself back to the present. 

It was moments like those that prompted Bruce to do his investigation. Bruce would do anything to make the kids happy, and protect them. 

Maybe he would have dropped the intensive background check if Superman was just a Let’s Player. But Clark Kent was also a news writer that continued his work in investigative journalism. Bruce couldn’t take a risk on the man’s character. He had to find out whether Kent would take advantage of the convention to get close to the kids and write articles about them. 

Bruce’s own life was always in the news and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. The gossip rags already speculated on the kids’ lives and butted in whenever they had a chance. 

(Bruce hated that they already knew so much about his family. How they followed Alfred’s career, digging up things about his service in the military, to his theatre work, and his butlering. The vultures had followed Dick too closely after his parent’s deaths. The media helped facilitate the rift between him and Jason after the accident. God, how he hated them.) 

They didn’t need that exposure. 

So yes, he did need to look deeper into Clark Kent’s character if the man was going to come around anytime soon. And that meant meeting him in game, through Batman. 

Not many people knew, including the employees at Tayman Games, but just like how people controlled their characters, there were ways to go in and control all the NPCs. Hiro had put it in on a whim, and had only told a few others about the feature. He had mostly used the ability for bug testing, but had otherwise made the feature taboo. Apparently, if done incorrectly, taking control of an NPC could rewrite it’s personality. And so the feature had been largely sealed and kept secret, with only a few people with the ability to do so. 

Bruce was going to use this backdoor to get into the game and confront Superman. Bruce wouldn’t have full control of the character (he wouldn’t risk the integrity of the game for his investigations), but he could nudge the character in the right direction and give the character cues. And Bruce knew from working with Hiro and Tim that the territory heroes had a plethora of abilities that were meant to put them above any of the other heroes in the game. If it came to a fight, Batman should at least have the ability to escape. 

It helped that Superman’s territory, The City, was right on the edge of No Man’s Land. 

He checked the time and the LPer’s channel. The man wasn’t streaming. This was about the right time that Superman played. 

Resolved, Bruce logged into the game.

\-----

Clark was having a rough day. 

Hell, he was having a rough two months, but today he had a really rough day. 

The days after Zero Day had been a madhouse. After the article (and how on earth did the Injustice article manage to get big enough to get onto mainstream media?) his channel and social media had been flooded by players, fans, and reporters alike all demanding information. 

The first few days, Clark couldn't even bring himself to use any technology. It took his Ma convincing him to at least make a few calls. He talked to John and Jimmy and made lunch plans with Pete. He explained the situation to them and felt a little bit better after admitting what happened. (Although, admittedly, he didn’t know very much.) They wished him luck, and told them they would appraise him of the situation, in-game and out. 

Then he set up a call with The Legionnaires. 

Clark had logged in early and Bouncy had given him a call as soon as he was online.

“S! Thank god you took our call,” Bouncy exclaimed. 

“How bad is it, Bouncy?” Clark can’t help but ask. He has an idea. He briefly worked in the journalism industry, and he knew how some trends can carry (especially since this was adjacent to big names like Hiro Okamura, Tim Drake-Wayne, and Wayne Industries). 

“ _ It’s so bad _ ,” but Bouncy said it with a helpless laugh and a grin, so Clark figured that he wasn’t in trouble with the Legionnaires. “All the Legionnaires channels and social media are getting flooded with comments, and some of us have even gotten offers for interviews.” 

“From what groups?” Clark asked, wary. 

“Some big ones that even all of us recognize. You know the big gaming blogs and buzz media, but there are some bigger names! Like the Daily Planet social media group and even a request from Jack Ryder, and that writer, Godfrey,” Bouncy said. 

“That no-good piece of sh-“ Clark held back a swear. Bouncy chuckled. Clark’s ire for Jack Ryder was well-known. Clark held no love for that sort of media that liked to stir shit up. And that was Ryder’s whole talk show, taking the piss at anything that moved. No integrity at all. 

On the other hand, “G Gordon Godfrey? Really?” The man wasn’t Clark’s favorite reporter and journalist, but he had some integrity and did focus on important news. 

“It was contingent on your presence on the show, but yeah, the offer seemed legit.” 

Clark groaned. 

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Bouncy immediately said. “All the attention is a huge boost to our channels. We’ve been getting views and donations like crazy. It’s been easy money. We just wanted to talk to you about how much to say. Just say the word and we can be the ‘no comment’ Legion group.” 

Bouncy looked so utterly sincere and Clark managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Captain.” 

“Aw, shucks. You know we’re friends right? We’ll stick by your side, S,” Bouncy said like it was nothing. Like Clark hadn’t destroyed one of the group’s favorite games. (He knew the articles were exaggerated, but looking back at how only he could defeat the enemies- he doesn’t think they’re completely off.) 

All Clark can manage was another grateful nod. 

Before Clark started to cry, the other Legionnaires joined the call. Then he has dozens of well-wishers, all asking how he’s doing and glad that he reached out to them. No one sounded upset and all of them are more concerned about his well-being than the state of the Legion or Injustice. 

When it became clear that Clark was getting overwhelmed, everybody backed off.

Then they talked about Zero Day. 

“It was a day like any other,” TimberWolf started. “I started my late-night stream and went on my account. I was finishing up a high level mission and I had a higher viewer count than usual, so they all saw when it went down.”

TimberWolf continued talking about how he continued the mission, despite the event countdown. The rewards for the mission were immense and would affect the neighborhood he decided to stake out and declare his own (although he was no territory controller). The stream kept him in the loop with the event. He thought he had time to finish before the start. But the mission never came to fruition when the aliens landed and several key players in his mission suddenly died. 

“Then it was a matter of keeping everything together.” On camera, TimberWolf was scowling, but not angry. Just thoughtful. “I started evacuating the area right away. Only then did I even try to confront the alien. They were too strong.”

Everyone in the conversation nodded along. Clark had to fight the urge to duck his head. Now he was even stronger than those aliens. 

“I tried to do damage control, use my agility to keep the enemy from rampaging, but other players that had watched my stream joined in and…” TimberWolf shook his head. “They were mowed down.”

All he could do was help mitigate damage until the Kryptonians were defeated. 

“I was inside,” Starman started his story. “You guys know I also play with my family and we use the game to communicate. We weren’t really concentrating on the event, mostly just talking and being silly- my cousins love using the dance emotes.” 

He laughed, before quickly sobering. “Then the walls blew in.”

“It was only because of my automatic gravitational shield ability that I was able to stop most of the concrete from impacting myself and my family. One moment, family party, the next we were all stuck in a bubble barely ten feet in diameter covered in rubble. I was lucky I was able to sustain the shield long enough for us to break out.”

“That was no luck,” Dreamy said softly. “It’s because you’ve got the fastest hands out of all of us. Invincibility frames and all that.”

That managed to lighten the atmosphere and get a smile out of Starman. He continued his story and talked about what happened next. How his family all logged off, but stayed awake with him as he played for hours fighting against the Kryptonian. They kept him awake as he was one of the only ones strong enough to go toe-to-toe with them. 

Eventually, the alien had gotten a good hit on him, blasting him into the atmosphere. By the time he made it back, the Kryptonian was defeated. 

“Brainy and I got lucky,” PhantomGrl said with a self-deprecating chuckle. Brainy shook his head silently. She looked tired and so did Brainy. “We were doing a stream together, nothing too serious. So when the signs of a global event was happening we agreed to both go along with it. We were kinda prepared.” 

“We weren’t prepared at all,” Brainy muttered. 

PhantomGrl gave him a look, her lips thinning, but didn’t disagree. 

“What are you guys talking about?” LightningLad jumped in. “You’re the only others that managed to take down a Kryptonian, besides S that is.” 

“PhantomGrl is right. We got lucky. It was only because the control over her phasing power is so precise that we managed to win,” Brainy said.

“It was a team effort, Brainy,” PhantomGrl said tiredly, as if she’s said it dozens of times before. 

One of the other Legionnaires asked what happened. 

PhantomGrl talked about how they managed to make a strategy based around her phasing. “As you guys know, as long as my ability is up, I’ll phase through anything. That.. really didn’t make the Kryptonian happy. I had their complete attention.” 

Brainy added in his responsibilities; how he coordinated with other players in doing attacks while the Kryptonian was distracted. How he had to make every blow count because they only had this opportunity while PhantomGrl was still in the game. “I knew that with one blow, PhantomGrl’s character would have died. But she still went in anyway even though she had to calculate her cooldowns to the millisecond. And she did this for hours.” 

“Brainy-“ 

“You were amazing,” Brainy interrupted. “Us other players couldn’t have beaten him without you.” 

PhantomGrl shook her head. This sounded like a well-worn argument. “Anyways, with the help of everyone, we managed to defeat the Kryptonian. Then came the tiring part.” 

“It was terrible,” Brainy added. 

“What happened?” Clark can’t help but ask. 

“We got roped into being the poster children for ‘saving the world’.” PhantomGrl said with a sigh. 

“We defeated the Kryptonian before S left, but once he did, we were the only heroes left to turn to. We got pulled into a lot of the clean-up,” Brainy said. 

“Which we were happy to help with,” PhantomGrl jumped in, “But it was a lot.” 

Damn. Clark hadn’t even realized. All he knew was that as soon as the event was over with, he logged off. It seemed unfair to leave all the work to the others who had also been playing for hours. 

And Clark only felt more guilty as he heard the others’ stories. How they helped people evacuate. How they saved people from collateral damage. How they only logged in later to a decimated server. How they were still cleaning up the server and rescuing people in the aftermath. 

It was almost too much. 

Especially when none of them blamed Clark. 

When it was Clark’s turn to speak, he went over the bare bones of the story. How he hadn’t been expecting it. How he could barely keep up against Zod. How he.. killed Zod in the end. 

(He can barely choke the words out, both from the guilt and the kindness of his friends. The Legionnaires don’t even push him to tell everything.)

And how afterwards, the level-up managed to make him powerful enough to take on the other aliens. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay to help,” Clark said to the group. “It was irresponsible of me, I’ll be sure to log-in-“ 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, S,” SaturnGal soothed. “We get it. The event was.. a big deal. Honestly, it could have happened to any one of us.” 

The others jumped in to add:

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“We know you’ll come help when you’re ready.” 

Clark was ready to apologize again, but Bouncy stepped in to take over the conversation. They discussed their plan for dealing with the media. The conversation was lighter as they discussed the various media outlets that had contacted them, which then turned to how the press had helped out with their streams and charities. (That cheered Clark up a little. Better numbers were the lifeblood for a Let's Player.)

Once they finish talking about the good the press has done for their channels, they finish deciding what to do about the media. Clark didn’t want to stop anyone from speaking up if they wanted to, but most of the Legionnaires agree to not speak to any big channels. (Most of them wanted Clark anyway.) 

Then they agree on the basic story of how Superman triggered the event. They all agreed on a basic story, talking about how Clark optimized his time on the game and was one of the only LPers in their group to exclusively play Injustice. 

(This was very close to the truth, not even counting Clark’s hours logged as Henry. 

...Which he ended up  _ not _ telling the group about. They didn’t ask and told him he didn’t owe any explanation if he wasn’t up for talking.)

After the call, Clark felt much better after talking things out and vowed to log in as soon as possible to help with the recovery process. 

\-----

The first time Clark logged in, Superman was immediately mobbed and he was forced to fly away. 

The second time he logged in, he did so as Henry Cavill and helped that way. 

The damage was.. very bad. It reminded him of the aftermath of the tornado that ripped apart Smallville. In some ways it was worse. The tornado was a natural disaster, but  _ this _ \- the ripped up buildings, the leaking sewers, the damaged electricity lines and water pipes, this was all Superman’s (Clark’s) fault. 

He did as much as he could as Henry, but in the end, he knew that in this situation, Superman could do the same things and more. 

The third time he logged in, it was as Superman. This time he coordinated his log in with a group of Legionnaires, using their presence to mask his log in.

It.. helped. 

They’ve always attracted attention in the past, but this was crazy. They were almost mobbed immediately, and only with the help of NPCs and some fans do they manage to start working. When he announced the start of his stream five minutes later, he was well into a mission and the repairs of The City. He works as long as he can with his stream cheering him on. 

But his moderators were working double time to ban the trolls, and most of the chat were asking him what happened on Zero Day. 

Clark didn’t want to talk about it, so he didn’t explain. 

The fourth, the fifth, the sixth.. Every subsequent time he logged in played out similarly. He ended up playing and streaming with the other Legionnaires to vary his location and make himself less likely to get mobbed. 

Eventually he settled into a routine, streaming less and recording more. 

Gaming wasn’t an issue anymore, but his social media was a disaster. He got tons of requests and messages every day. (Including an interview request from G. Gordon Godfrey, which he politely rejected.) 

The only account he kept up to date was his writing blog, which he had to lock so that only people with accounts could comment. He spent a lot of his days banning people, although his numbers had never been higher. 

Things might have been manageable if his new found celebrity status didn’t extend to his real life. He should have expected it, but he started to get attention in Smallville. When he went into town for groceries with his Ma, he didn’t miss the gossiping whispers, or the printed out articles with his face on them, often accompanied with the words ‘made in Smallville!’ Becoming a Let’s Player had already made Clark prime gossip in town, but it had been tempered by the fact that the career was the result of Pa’s death. He had no such luck now. 

People just came up to him now to talk about Zero Day. 

Everyone thought they could walk up to him and talk to him now that he was ‘famous’. (Apparently he had just been mentioned, by name, in a popular late night show.) Clark managed to escape most conversations, but the confrontations only increased. 

Clark ended up hiding in the farm more often than not. 

\-----

There were nights where Clark found himself itching to play Injustice. He would be going about his day, doing work on the farm, helping his Ma, or doing chores, when he was struck with the desire to log on. Tonight in particular he was feeling the need. And because there wasn’t anything he wanted to do more, he decided to play. There would be plenty to do and this would be a prime time to play without anyone expecting his presence. 

When he logged in he got straight to work. Villainy and crime had increased after Zero Day, no doubt caused by the destruction and slow recovery of all the territories. In fact, a lot of the villains in The City seemed to have leaked over from No Man’s Land. The villainous haven was growing even more restless after Zero Day and many of its bordering territories had reported spill-over.

Clark didn’t know whether or not to be grateful his territory is close to No Man’s Land. On the one hand, he can quickly take care of any issues that crop up before they become bigger. Traveling back and forth also randomized his schedule too. (On the other hand, he would have preferred that the issue not exist at all.)

He was slowly flying back to his territory after dropping off a gang of thieves in No Man’s Land. When he reached the border, he paused and looked out over both territories. At this time of day in-game amongst the gnarled buildings of No Man’s Land gothic geography, he shouldn’t be spotted. This was a great place to take a break; the sun was setting in-game and it lit up both areas quite nicely. 

With no disturbances, Clark thought to himself that he should do this a little more often. After all, he was one of the rare few with the ability to travel between borders. He can just relax and catch his breath here. 

Which is why Clark almost jumped out of his seat when someone growled behind him:

_ “What do you think you’re doing in my city.” _

\-----

Bruce knew that ‘Superman’ was powerful, but knowing versus seeing the character in action was completely different. Bruce knew almost everything about the game, including its restriction and the intended growth speed of the players, but here was Superman breaking all the rules. 

When the character stilled while he was looking over the horizon, Bruce wondered if the man behind the avatar knew how much trouble he had caused in game and out. Did he know about the privileges that no one else had and the power that was in his grasp? Superman drifted in the air, almost carelessly, as if the person behind the screen wasn’t paying attention to the mouse. 

The command window jumped to attention and Bruce watched as ‘Batman’ started to stealthily make his way towards Superman. The character followed a path unknown to Bruce, so he didn’t touch the controls. Instead, he read the command window:

_ “USERNAME: Superman [S41838]” within “TERRITORY: No Man’s Land” border _

_ Completed Mission 673927 with A-Rank efficiency in the past 7.26 minutes  _

_ Trigger: Confrontation  _

Bruce checked the screen again. Batman managed to get close enough to touch Superman’s cape without alerting the man behind the character. 

Bruce watched as the command window started to rapidly scroll through possible responses, before picking one:

“What do you think you’re doing in my city?” Batman growled. 

Bruce almost startled at the character’s voice that was modeled after his own. He.. didn’t really sound like that, angry and dark (very often). Bruce reasoned that that was the point, to make sure no one could tell. (Although, he also suspected that it was a joke on the boys’ end.) 

Superman didn’t react at first. 

Then the character turned around in a full circle and was about to turn around again when Batman stepped out of the shadows. 

“Wow, you’re Batman,” Superman said, finally spotting him. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Batman continued. “Don’t you have enough to clean up in The City?” 

At first, Superman didn’t answer. Then, “I’m sorry. A group of villains from No Man’s Land came into my territory. I had to deal with them to protect my people.” 

Batman growled again and started to interrogate Superman about the NPCs while Bruce watched on. How odd, that the man’s words were at odds with one another. Arrogant enough to say that it was ‘his territory’ and ‘his people’, but he apologized with his first breath. 

Bruce wondered if he could maybe have Batman ask questions for Bruce and inputted a sentence when there was a lull:

COMMAND  _ [Dialogue]: “Do you even think about your actions?” _

“Do you think that others want to see your face, alien?” Batman spat out. 

Oh-kay. That was not what he wanted his character to say (it must have been too out of character resulting in the AI taking over) but Bruce could work with that. 

_ COMMAND [Dialogue]: “Haven’t you done enough after Zero Day?” _

Thankfully, Batman recited that word for word. 

Superman didn’t react. Of course he didn’t, this was just an avatar. Bruce wished he could see the man on the other side. 

“That’s why I’ve come back. I haven’t done nearly enough. For everybody,” Superman said. 

Neither Batman, nor Bruce reacted. 

Superman slowly turned away. 

“Tell me.” Batman started, his voice lowered. Superman paused. “Do you bleed?” 

Superman hesitated, almost turning back, before flying away. 

“Because you will, if you continue to come into my territory,” Batman finished. 

Bruce had no idea if Superman caught the tail end of that little speech, but he almost wished that Superman didn’t. Tim and Hiro had spared no expense at making his character grim and dark. (He secretly wondered if that’s how the kids really saw him. But- no. They were just making fun of him. Probably.) 

It was rather unfortunate, because with this personality difference Bruce didn’t see a way to control Batman and give him commands. Bruce had known that he couldn’t input anything that was outside the character’s normal programming, but he hadn’t thought it was this serious. That was a major dampener on his plan to get to know the other man. 

Bruce shook his head. No, he had a modicum of control, it was just a matter of using the character effectively. For now, using the backdoor was the best strategy. He would continue with it until another method proved viable. 

Bruce programmed in an alert that would tell him when Batman was about to interact with Superman. He paused, then put in another alert that would tell him when Superman was in, or near No Man’s Land. Maybe Bruce would be able to trigger another confrontation. 

With that in mind, Bruce closed out of the program and left his study. 

\-----

_ “Tell me. Do you bleed?”  _

_ “Because you will, if you continue to come into my territory.” _

The words sat mockingly in Clark’s chat log. He had flown too far away to hear them, but his enhanced sense helped him catch the last parting words. 

Damn, Batman was intense. 

Clark was elated. Meeting the territory controllers was quite rare outside of an event. And then, it was even rarer to meet Batman, who was an enigma in his own territory. The other territory controllers had developed backstories that they often revealed hints of (Aquaman who was actually raised on land, Wonder Woman as a timeless Amazon, Harley Quinn was a certified MD), but there was nothing on Batman. There were definitely things about the character that players guessed, but nothing that said that the character was anything other than a crime-fighting bat superhero. 

Yet the meeting with the superhero was like nothing that Clark could have imagined. Batman was so intense (and rude). He wondered if it was because the character was an NPC. The number of players that blamed Superman for Zero Day were the minority and most of them never got the chance to interact with him, let alone talk to him. Batman confronting him about it was like a slap to his face. 

So many people in his life told him it wasn’t his fault, and this was the first time that someone said otherwise to him face-to-face. 

… 

But maybe because Batman was an NPC he had that right to say it was Clark’s fault. The players would ultimately be fine. They would recover; there were players who started new characters for less. 

But for the NPCs, their homes and livelihoods were affected, and many of them were.. dead. He  _ had  _ noticed that the NPCs were wary of him now as Superman. It didn’t affect him as Henry, but even as Henry the NPCs didn’t talk badly of Superman. (Although, now that he thought about it, maybe it had to do with the fact that Superman was the territory controller.) No NPC had confronted him, until now. 

Maybe.. maybe Clark would look into the general opinion of Superman more. Maybe as an article or.. who was he kidding, he was personally interested in knowing. And he felt like he should know the NPCs’ opinions of him.

It was only fair to them. 

(And if he happened to go back to No Man’s Land to catch another peek of Batman, well, that was between him and the other territory hero.) 


	9. World's Finest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: ~9.6k

Clark logged on more. 

Really he wanted to see Batman again, but he gave himself the excuse that he needed to log-in more. 

Thus, Clark found himself as S, flying near the border and taking missions. He would never stay for long, his need/responsibility to help out his own territory was too strong. 

He worked at the border a few times at Henry, but quickly stopped. His stats were too undesirable for the area and his traits were not a good match with the missions in that territory. Even passing by the junction where the two territories met was dangerous when he was Henry. (Especially, if he didn’t want to have to save himself as S and reveal his secret identity.) 

And as a result of more log-ins, Clark steadily eased himself back into his normal gaming schedule. 

Despite returning to normalcy, he found himself drifting towards the border whenever he had the chance. But the border was quiet and Clark almost gave up on seeing the elusive Batman again. 

Until Intergang. 

\-----

The next in-game event wasn’t as intense, but that was just what the players desperately needed. Many players were getting fatigued by the endless amount of fixing and cheerless missions. (There were so many missions that were about finding missing NPCs. Many ended incomplete and the ones that didn’t often ended in heartbreak.) The newest event was a way for the players to combat the dark mood that had settled in the game. 

The event started with small scuffles that turned into larger fights. It was then revealed that Intergang was an illicit group aiming to take down those who they thought had too much power. They were smart scumbags (some of the worst kind of scumbag) and minions who would do anything to get more power and money. 

Defeating groups of Intergang members helped clean up the areas of the territory they were situated in and everybody immediately put their all into the new event. 

It was nice to finally have someone to punch. 

Clark helped out where he could but left most of the scuffles to the other players. Because of all the enthusiastic players beating them back, Intergang was not doing very much damage. However, Clark knew in the long run that if the gang set down roots, they could become a major power. Hopefully, the mini events were not a distraction to a bigger plot. 

Clark concentrated on finding the source of Intergang. He put his (amatuer) investigative journalist skills to use, turned into Henry Cavill, and did some sleuthing. 

What he discovered was that there were quite a few potential Intergang strongholds in all the territories. For them to have that many resources they must be funded by some of the wealthy, corrupt NPCs (or maybe even some players) in-game. Clark would have to look for those characters later. Today, he really wanted to punch something without his viewers watching him. 

\-----

S burst through the ceiling of the warehouse. 

The people inside started shooting immediately. It was Intergang alright. Thankfully, his specialized defense blocked all the laser blasts and Clark could take a moment to swivel his camera and look around. The warehouse was filled to the brim with battle weapons and armor that Intergang used to harass the different territories. 

Hopefully by cutting off their supply here, it would reduce the number of robberies the group was undertaking. 

Clark was about to maneuver his character into action when his health bar dropped. 

What? Weren’t they hitting him with lasers? Why was it causing him so much damage?

It might have been a fluke, but a quick succession of blasts had his health dropping again. Not too low, but much more damage than he had taken for quite some time. (Since Zero Day.) 

Clark immediately started using his heat vision to blast the guns shooting him. Some of them were different from the standard blasters that Intergang used. He made sure to target those first, spinning in a circle to disable them all. 

Then there was an unfamiliar whine in the air. Uh oh, that definitely sounded like a gun charging up.

Clark caught a glimpse in the corner of his screen of what looked like a laser cannon on someone’s shoulders- before S was hit with a wave of red light. His screen was completely tinged red. Shit, a vision impairment? A status ailment? Was S dying?

His character recovered, the screen turned back to normal, but not before S dropped to the ground and lost a chunk of health. 

What was that? 

There was another whine of a gun charging up and S struggled to get up. 

He didn’t get up in time. This time the blast tinged Clark’s screen a pale blue as ice started to cover his character. In seconds, S was frozen solid and nothing Clark did could make him move. Clark went through his whole menu, but there wasn’t a single action he could take to bust out of the ice even with all his abilities. His specials were all frozen as well. 

Danger messages began to scroll across his chat log informing him about his impending ‘blackout’. 

Damn. That wasn’t good. Fainting when no one knew he was on this mission AND in the middle of a gang of enemies that could actually injure him? 

There had to be something he could do…

His status bar gave a soft ‘ping!’

_ Absorbing sunlight. _

That’s right, he had gone through the ceiling. Luckily, Intergang had frozen him where he came in and light filtered through the hole and shined on his character. He slowly healed from the damage he took. 

Come on… 

The gang members around him started to set up what looked like a coffin and Clark mentally urged the healing to go faster. 

One goon was pulling out suppression handcuffs, the kind designed for those with superpowers. He had never been caught with a pair and he didn’t want to try them now. Although Clark had reservations about his powers, he didn’t like the thought of not having them. 

Clark tried messing around with his character to see if he could heal faster, but his actions changed nothing and the progress was alarmingly slow. 

He was afraid it was too late- when a smoke bomb went off in the rafters. 

“What the-“ 

Everybody turned towards the commotion as people started coughing and a few muffled ‘thumps’ were heard. 

More smoke bombs were detonated drawing away the men who were about to detain S. Clark sighed in relief. He just needed a little more time to recover-

“Forget about them! Get the hero!” A man commanded and a contingent of gang members went back to prepping S for capture. 

There was a flicker in the corner of his screen and an object embedded itself into the front of S’ frozen chest. Clark zoomed in just in time to see the shape of a batarang before it detonated. The explosion didn’t cause him any harm, but it did blast the ice off his frozen form. 

He was free, no more ice paralysis affecting his character. 

Clark quickly took care of all the bad guys. 

He had finished rounding them up when there was a ‘ _ hurk’  _ and thump behind him. Clark turned his character around to see a henchman behind him, a net trapping them to the ground. One of the freeze cannons was a foot away, too far for the henchman to reach. 

Clark kicked away the gun, making the henchman curse and struggle harder. However, it looked like they wouldn’t be getting free anytime soon, so Clark directed S in the direction of where the net was thrown. 

In the shadows of the supply crates littering the building, was Batman. 

..Who was ignoring him. 

The hero was looking over the crates, going through their contents and turning them around. 

“Why are you still here?” Batman said suddenly. 

“Uh…” Clark fumbled with his keyboard to type. 

“I followed a lead to this warehouse. I was hoping to stop some of Intergang’s activity at the source,” S said to Batman’s back. 

“Hmph.” 

Clark waited for Batman to say more, but the other hero wasn’t forthcoming. 

“Thanks for the save, Batman,” S added. 

That got a reaction. 

“You shouldn’t have been so over-confident,” Batman said, still not even looking back at him. “Intergang has developed weapons specifically for meta humans. And as you saw, there are quite a few designed to affect Kryptonians.” 

“Yeah, what were those?” S wondered aloud. 

Batman pointed to a crate and Clark eagerly moved forward so that they were closer. Inside were just weapons, nothing he hadn’t seen before so Clark took in the moment to stare at Batman. This close he could see the hero more clearly, from his well-built form, to his square jawline, and broad shoulders. What an interesting choice of design for this character, only allowing Batman’s mouth to be exposed. 

“This one is a red-sunlight cannon,” Batman explained. Clark pulled his eyes away and went back to paying attention to the hero. “You’re not the only meta who has powers relating to the sun, but I have reason to believe that this weapon was designed specifically against Kryptonians. Once weakened, some of their more conventional weaponry, like the cold gun, will work against you.” 

That was unsettling. Clark didn’t like the fact that there were weapons developed specifically for him and other Kryptonians. Well, only S now that he was the last Kryptonian. 

“Thank you for the information, Batman. I’ll be sure to watch out in the future,” S replied. 

“You were careless,” the other hero said dismissively. “In any other scenario, the villains might have won. Your arrogance and underestimation could have been your undoing.” 

Ouch. Clark can’t exactly say that Batman was wrong. After Zero Day, he hadn’t found many things in game that could really injure S anymore. But maybe that was because he wasn’t exposed to all the territories and hadn’t fought against other players. 

But then Clark thought about Batman’s words again. 

“Are you worried for me?” S asked. 

Batman didn’t answer. 

Batman took a final picture of the crates and slid smoothly into the shadows. 

“Clean up on your way out,” he growled. 

Then he disappeared. 

Clark didn’t push his luck and stayed put (even though he really wanted to follow the man and converse with him more). Clark shook his head. Batman was so rude. 

Although.. Maybe the rudeness was a cover for Batman’s worry. (At least he hoped that was the reason why the man was so brusque.) It seemed odd that the hero would not only save S, but explain what went wrong. He had thought the man hated him, but maybe not. And maybe the threat from their first meeting was more of a warning than an actual threat. 

Then again, the man was intense, even out of No Man’s Land. 

Clark paused. 

Why was Batman in The City anyways? 

Clark took a second look at the crates Batman examined. His super senses alerted him to a few extra details that he would have otherwise missed: there were serial numbers on the weapons, and a few rare compounds that he could recognize on the crates. They saved onto his mission log. 

He would be able to look into them later. For now, he had some Intergang members to put in jail. 

\-----

Bruce glanced back at the small window he had opened. On screen, he watched as Batman used his grappling hook to leap through the buildings. The NPC took extra care not to be seen in The City. A helicopter passed nearby and the character melted into the shadows. They hunkered down, blending in.

Bruce kept typing even as his eyes strayed towards the Injustice window. He caught a stream of blue and red against the sky. When it disappeared from view he closed the window. 

Although he had first started to watch Injustice through the eyes of Batman as a means to gather information on Clark Kent, Bruce also used it as a way to check up on the other Let’s Players that would be invited to the future convention. (Most of The Legion were… satisfactory.) Then he started to open the game more and more to check up on the game itself. He could multitask by working and having the game run in the background. Occasionally, Bruce made notes on what the overall mood of the players were, how the clean-up was proceeding, and if it looked like the game was on-track after Zero Day. So far, so good. 

The introduction of Intergang was a good idea on Hiro and Tim’s part. (Although he loathed the fact that it had caused them and the company many sleepless nights, trying to output the event so quickly.) Having a new, controlled event where players could take their frustration out on enemies they could defeat was ideal. Not only that, the multitude of weapons and tools being introduced could now be used by the players themselves, boosting their abilities for future events. Raising everyone’s stats during such a trying period (subtly, Hiro reassured) would do wonders for morale. 

It was a coincidence, or perhaps logical, that with how often Bruce opened the game that he would be watching when Batman encountered Superman again. 

This time around, Batman had been in The City doing his own investigation on Intergang, when Superman appeared to be in trouble. 

Bruce was pleased to see that despite Batman’s brusque words, the hero immediately went about saving Superman when he saw the other in distress. 

He was once again flattered by the fact that this was a version of how the kids saw him: a hero that wouldn’t hesitate to save someone. He had already watched his character save people for no reward, inspire others to help out, and be compassionate towards villains who needed help. Though these traits tended to be kept secret by the territory hero and not many knew that side of Batman. 

So it was odd that Superman, or really Clark Kent, the man behind Superman, was oddly respectful of the NPC. Even though the NPC was rude and dismissive, Superman was still polite, even thanking Batman for his actions. 

Bruce had noticed right away that most players didn’t treat the NPCs like they did people, so it stood out in his mind that Superman did. Clark did. 

It was a point in the LPer’s favor. 

Hmph. 

Bruce paused and sighed over the fact that even that habit had been copied for his NPC. 

Surely Bruce had only scraped the tip of the iceberg. Hopefully he would have more chances to interact with Clark so he could build a more comprehensive profile of the man. 

\-----

Bruce was in a good mood. 

He could physically feel how his good mood affected his body, making his body lighter and less burdened. The Intergang event was doing its job, and the kids during dinner had come together to congratulate Hiro and Tim for a job well done. Hiro and Tim discussed their work with easy smiles. 

The cheer had carried over the next day and during work Bruce found himself yearning to join Injustice again to remind himself of the kids’ good job. 

He could take a quick look. 

When he logged on he found his character actually sleeping for once. He didn’t want to wake his character up, but he was a little interested in the man’s life so he left the window open while he did his work. When he looked up at the window an hour later, he found the NPC awake and starting his routine. Bruce almost winced when he saw the man’s unmasked face. It looked exactly like his. 

Ugh, the whole man’s morning routine was exactly like Bruce’s, from the way the man stretched to the way he ate his eggs. Bruce knew that the kids had done it because it was fun and to annoy him (plus Bruce had given his permission), but it was disconcerting to see. Thank goodness the manor was in a zone where players couldn’t enter without special permissions. 

He continued his work so he wouldn’t be watching his cartoon face. When he looked back later, his NPC was dressed as Batman, out patrolling in the Batmobile. Bruce returned to his work. Every so often he checked on the game and was glad to see that things seemed to have improved for the territory. 

And Bruce was happy to see Batman doing his part, helping people with crimes both large and small. His good mood continued. And after dinner he decided to do some light work while having the Injustice window open. 

When he got back to the game, all was not well. He logged on to a wall of flames and the NPCs actions were running fast across the screen command window. 

_ 18 civilians in the building _

_ Calculating best plan of action... _

His character started creating holes in the building for the smoke to escape and a place for heroes to come in. He helped lead the heroes in saving the remaining civilians, making sure that each one was rescued successfully. All 18 were rescued, but instead of escaping the building himself…

_ Chance of people still left in the building.. 3%  _

Batman dove back in even though his health was decreasing from the fire. Although NPCs had all the metadata abilities like players did (they could see mission requests, they had a health bar, etc), NPCs didn’t rely on them like players did. To them it was a useful tool and part of their normal life. So even though Batman couldn’t see a mission request from an NPC, he knew there was still a chance that an NPC was trapped, unable to get a request out. That chance was all that drove Batman to make this decision to dive back into the building. 

Batman went room after room until he found himself almost on the roof level. A wall collapsed nearby and it was only because of that did Batman hear a soft cry. There was a powder blue crib and Batman hurried to gather its precious contents. 

Bruce was glued to the screen and felt his heart stop when he saw the small bundle being pressed up against Batman’s chest. 

Batman raised his cape to shield himself and the baby from the flames. They made their way to the roof where they could escape. 

They might have made it onto the roof if it wasn’t for the support beams collapsing around him. 

Bruce’s lips thinned. He wanted to step in, there had to be some knowledge that he had that the NPC wasn’t considering (or couldn’t). But the NPC also had better situational awareness than him. And Bruce couldn’t say that he could control the NPC without the AI fighting him. 

There weren't any viable actions Bruce could do to help. So he watched, hands crossed in front of his face as Batman assessed the area. Bruce figured out the NPC’s next move even before the system told him what was about to happen. Batman saw an open hole, a building nearby, and made his move. 

Batman jumped. 

Zt. Zt. Zt.

His phone buzzed and Bruce didn’t want to look away, but that was his ringtone for emergencies. Bruce fumbled for his phone to see who was messaging him, but when he checked, he realized it wasn’t a message, but an alert. An alert for Injustice, when Superman was in the area…

Bruce quickly typed in a command. 

“I could use some air support,” Batman said into the open air, even as he curled around the baby to take the impact of the fall. A red alert appeared above the hero’s head. 

There were a few heart-stopping moments as Batman sailed through the air towards the ground- before a familiar red and blue blur caught him. 

“Superman,” his character said, completely deadpan. 

Superman quickly flew them to the nearest rooftop. When they landed, Batman held out his precious burden. “Bring them back to the ground?” 

Superman nodded and flew down. Even without Batman looking over the edge, Bruce could hear a grateful sob from the ground. Batman paused (listening for any other cries of distress) and when he heard none, started to walk away. 

Bruce leaned back in his chair. The character was extremely low on health and he had been glad that his gamble had paid off. 

There was a soft ‘woosh’ and the sound of feet hitting the pavement. “Are you doing alright, Batman?” The familiar voice asked. 

Batman didn’t reply, didn’t look back, and kept walking. 

“..The baby’s fine, by the way. Got them back to their parents and everything.”

The NPC absorbed this statement and ran through a list of responses in seconds. 

“Good work,” Batman said softly and took off running despite his horrible injuries.

“You too,” Superman called out. 

After confirming that Batman was safe, Bruce logged off. That was enough excitement for one night. He wasn’t sure he could take watching his character do more selfless heroic acts. (The kids really did have a high opinion of him, didn’t they?) And he had to admit, if Superman, Clark Kent, was starting to play, then he could leave the game in good hands. 

..Only because the man was so ridiculously overpowered (not because Bruce trusted him). 

\-----

Clark’s heart was still racing even after Batman disappeared from view. When Clark logged on, his super senses had told him that there was fire at the border of No Man’s Land and The City. There were alerts clustered in the fire although they had gone out one by one as he approached. Still, he couldn’t not check after flying so close. 

By the time he arrived there were no missions left except- one popped up in the building. Wait, not quite in the building but to the side of it- no, it kept moving. When he flew around to see the strange phenomenon and saw Batman falling out the sky, Clark had hastily used a special move to boost forward and catch him. (He was completely caught off-guard and had almost fumbled the catch. Thank goodness he hadn’t.) 

The surprise had him off-kilter, making it so he didn’t question being handed a baby. 

S flew back to the ground where firefighters and heroes helped contain the fire. He returned the baby to some grateful parents. He checked on them to make sure they didn’t need any help and got starry-eyed looks from some of the players. However, it looked like they were distracted by the sight of another in-game celebrity. 

“Baman was amazing,” one of the players said in awe. “This is the first time I’ve ever interacted with him. He came up with a plan so quickly and he even knew our powers and names.”

The other players agreed and continued to talk about him in awed voices. 

S checked in with the civilians, who said the same. 

“I thought he was an urban legend,” an NPC said. “But he’s real and he saved us.”

“He was very impressive,” someone said, and everyone (including Clark) agreed. 

And when Clark was flying away he finally realized what happened. Batman, in order to save that baby, jumped out that window without knowing if he would survive. That was.. Insane. The hero always seemed so controlled and calculating. It seemed unlike his personality. Then again, Clark didn’t really know the hero very well (besides those two brief encounters) and maybe the territory hero knew something that the players and NPCs didn’t. After all, he did request to be saved. 

But.. in a way it didn’t matter, because Batman had taken the chance to save someone. 

It said a lot about the hero's character, especially since Clark was thanked in the end. 

He hoped he would meet the hero again. 

\-----

They meet up again, several times over the next couple of weeks. They both figure it’s because of Intergang, but neither of them realize it’s deliberate. Clark purposefully made sure to take missions near the border of No Man’s Land and eagerly pursued Intergang in other territories. Meanwhile, Bruce would occasionally nudge Batman into areas where Superman was spotted. 

In the end, they were in each other’s company more often when Clark wasn’t streaming and ended up teaming up quite frequently. They started to learn more about one another. Bruce found out that Superman was a total boy scout. (No wonder the man chose to be a hero, he couldn’t be anything else.) The man was honest and way too nice, totally unwilling to cause trouble even when there were rude players or lying NPCs approaching him. 

Bruce would have thought it was a facade if it wasn’t for the fact that Batman also secretly watched Superman on the sly. (Bruce might have nudged the territory hero to watch over the ‘alien menace’ a few times.) Where Superman could have completely obliterated those before him, instead he was civil and tended to run when he could have made a show of power to stop those harassing him. 

And when they interacted on-on-one, surprisingly there was less of the neutral-faced superhero. Superman was snarky and tended to talk back to Batman, not at all intimidated by the dark knight’s reputation. But he wasn’t disrespectful, not like some players were to the NPCs. 

No.. it was more like Superman treated Batman like one of his friends. 

..Which was a good thing. After all, Bruce needed to see the man's real personality. And it seemed likely that Clark Kent would reveal his true colors to a NPC friend. 

But instead of someone he had to protect from the kids, Bruce just found Clark. Clark with his snarky sense of humor, his inability to lie, and his real personality because he wasn’t actually role-playing a character. Clark was just that genuine. 

Superman did every mission he came across, even the ones that took a bit of time (and his surprisingly analytical mind was interesting to see in action, investigative journalist indeed) or made sure that it went to someone who could fulfill it. There was no mission too small for Superman to take care of, even though he was one of the strongest players in the game. If the gamer wanted to, he could have sought a higher and more difficult mission. There weren’t many others who had the raw power and speed, not to mention a plethora of versatile abilities that Superman did. 

Instead, he took care of missions both large and small, proving himself to be a hero to everyone. 

Especially when it came to children. 

There were definitely children playing the game (even though the recommended player age was 13+), but what stood out was how Superman treated the NPC children who were, for all intents and purposes, actual children. 

Bruce had watched Superman help over a dozen children, teens, and young adults with their issues, taking each issue seriously and with care. He helped save their pets, helped them with directions, and even flew them where they needed to go. But he treated them respectfully and without belittling them. Bruce couldn’t help but imagine his own kids interacting with the man and thought that maybe things would turn out okay. 

He was kind. He was helpful. Bruce could hardly find a fault in the man, which would have been even more suspicious if it wasn’t for the fact that Bruce did see faults in him. 

The man felt deeply, let himself get run too ragged, and didn’t stand up for himself enough from the other players that harassed him. 

But most of all, the man seemed.. Lonely. 

He didn’t allow anyone to get close, not really. He constantly pulled on his Superman persona, even with his friends, because they were always recording. It was as if he didn’t think anyone would like the man behind the avatar. Except for the NPC, Batman. 

\-----

To Clark’s surprise and pleasure, he did start meeting up with Batman more often. Part of it was the fact that frequently roamed the border of The City and No Man’s Land, and the other part was because he continued his work dismantling Intergang in different territories.. Where he often coincidentally bumped into the dark hero. It seemed unlikely that the event would end anytime soon, so it was an easy way to get the chance to collaborate with Batman. 

Batman was a mystery. Even after meeting the territory hero, Clark was completely mystified by the hero’s design. What were Hiro Okamura and Tim Drake-Wayne thinking when they designed Batman? He was unlike any of the others with their clear backstories and rather charismatic designs. 

But as he met up with the hero, Clark realized that he was like any other NPC in the game: he was a person. He was complex, with feelings and goals that made him startlingly life-like. Sure, Batman was brusque and purposefully rude to others, but he was also kind and gentle to children. He didn’t use any unnecessary force when he could. And he put civilians first. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that Clark knew that Batman was an NPC, he would have sworn that there was a real person behind the mask. 

It’s just- his deadpan humor and investigative skills were so real. It made sense that Batman would be given the moniker ‘best detective’ in-game if he had pre-programmed knowledge, but the first time that knowledge extended to players Clark had been so impressed. 

Clark had one time off-handedly mentioned how one of the Legionnaires had misplaced their cell phone. Dreamer needed their phone for her social media work associated with her Let’s Plays and it had been a large part of the Legionnaire call. The thought had stuck with Clark, even though he shouldn’t have been talking about real life with an NPC. 

Batman had stayed silent (Clark could only hope that the NPC ignored him as opposed to thinking he was crazy), until he asked, “Which Legionnaire lost their cell phone?” 

Clark immediately replied in surprise, “Dreamer.” He hadn’t even realized that Batman knew the name of their group, let alone could tell that they were associated with each other. “You know her?”

“Dreamer: precognitive powers, adequate hand-to-hand ability, able to take advantage of the visions in combat and as a mission leader,” Batman said, not even looking away from their objective. 

The analysis surprised Clark. He had known that the man dealt in a lot of information (he had to, to be a detective), but this was a player, not an NPC. Clark wondered what sort of profile that Batman would say about S. 

“Dreamer is right-handed, is she not?” Batman asked, even though it sounded like he already knew the answer. 

“That’s right,” Clark confirmed. It was an option that could be chosen in game. 

“Is the weather changing in her area?” Batman asked. 

It was. She was in the states and it was approaching summer in her region. Clark told Batman this. 

“Have her check her right-hand pocket of her winter jacket,” Batman said. Then he had sprung off the roof when his target had arrived. S followed him. 

He offered nothing else for the rest of the mission. 

Clark had almost forgotten about it until the next Legionnaire meeting (Dreamer still hadn’t found her phone) and offered Batman’s advice. Lo and behold, Dreamer had looked in her winter coat and found her cellphone. Everybody had complimented Clark on his quick thinking, but he was quick to dissuade everyone stating that it was his friend’s suggestion. 

Later he had asked Batman about it and he had said, “Dreamer is the type to look ahead and plan things out. With the unpredictable weather, she may have brought a coat with her outside, only to not need it by the end of the day. A thicker coat would hide the weight of a cell phone, especially if she draped the jacket over one arm. In theory, that would be a possible place for the lost item to be.”

Clark gaped at the deduction. They were later distracted by their mission, but Clark’s impression of the NPC was raised. He was just- it was so impressive and used information about the real world. The NPCs had often alluded to the fact that they knew they were in game, but this felt completely different. 

That wasn’t the only time Clark got to see the detective in action. The hero used his ability for good, finding lost people, tracking down villains, and making sure the correct people were brought to justice. And unlike some (players especially), Batman wasn’t arrogant about his abilities. He was fair and used his abilities for everyone who needed it. Everyone was worth saving to Batman. 

Clark liked that a lot about the character and found that he really did enjoy spending time with the NPC. No wonder when Clark wasn’t thinking about it, he could forget that Batman wasn’t human. 

\-----

Clark found himself hiding as Henry Cavill less and less. He still used the NPC glasses whenever convenient; investigating was so much easier as an NPC, but he started to play more often as S. His investigations of Intergang meant that a battle was often imminent and it wouldn’t be smart to be without his powers. 

(It has nothing to do with meeting Batman as Superman.) 

Unfortunately, being S meant that he was much easier to track down by the masses. Although his popularity was waning, there were still other people who felt a need to come interact with him. Some of the experience Clark was used to as a performer, but there were clearly some who felt that once they found him, they were entitled to Clark’s attention. Luckily, S could fly and Clark had utilized the skill a few times in order to get away from such fans. 

Today was a bad day though. He had been confronted in real life by people who had come all the way to Smallville to see his face and it scared him to see his two lives intersecting that way. They had met him in the market and Clark could feel all the eyes on them when they had loudly proclaimed themselves fans. Having to switch to his S persona was easy, but he could tell that the people of Smallville were judging him for it. 

Then in-game, he was a little bit on edge and he didn’t have his normal patience dealing with gawkers in game. 

He was a bit brusque and felt himself isolating himself earlier than usual. Clark thought about turning into Henry when he heard a familiar voice behind him: 

“You’re here again.” 

\-----

It was after dinner when Bruce got a patterned buzz from his phone. Luckily he was alone in the study when he received the alert. 

Zt. Zt. Zt.

Right. His Injustice alert, the one that would go off when Batman was in a prime position to interact with Clark. 

_ Zt. Zt. Zt. _

The pattern repeated again, but with more urgency. That was the alert that Batman and Superman were going to interact. 

Maybe it was another mission together? Intergang was now a recurring enemy in the game. Hiro and Tim utilized them effectively to incorporate more reasons to travel between territories if players wanted to. Meaning there were that many more chances for Superman and Batman to meet each other.

Bruce loaded up the game. In moments, he was watching Batman make his way over to Superman, who was again, hovering over the territory line, deep in thought. 

“You’re here again,” Batman said. It was still said in a growl, but it wasn’t as harsh as the first time they had talked so long ago. 

Superman didn’t turn around. And the silence with the far look away made the game character look deep in thought. 

What Bruce didn’t know was that instead of turning his character around, Clark had swiveled his camera so that he could see Batman behind him in the shadows. The man was barely visible. 

(Clark, however, turned his brightness all the way up on his monitor and had color correction done. Not to see Batman, of course not. It was just a mod to help with seeing in general in No Man’s Land. Although it did help Clark pick out the way the hero’s cape draped over the man's broad shoulders and his sturdy frame.)

“Why are you here?” Batman asked. 

Superman finally turned around. “Do you mind listening to me for a moment?” 

“...Does it have anything to do with the recent gang activity in between our areas?” Batman asked. Very rarely did Batman allow small talk that didn’t have to do with their missions. More often than not it was Bruce offering his two cents in a conversation. 

Superman didn’t answer right away and the NPC seemed to sense that the answer was no and was about to say something rude, when Bruce stepped in and took over. He let Clark answer. 

“..No,” Superman admitted. 

Bruce started to type even as he could see the NPC prepare for a brusque rejection. 

“Then we have nothing to talk about,” Batman said and Bruce could see the other character jerk, as if the controller of said character flinched at the words. 

“..However, if there’s something that might affect your performance as a hero, then perhaps I could listen.” Batman said, repeating Bruce’s typed command. 

“..Thanks, Batman.” Superman actually grinned, the person behind the computer changing the expression on the character’s face. 

(Bruce wondered if Clark was grinning too.) 

“I’ve just been getting some trouble with people getting in the way of my.. Er, superhero work,” Superman started. “I realize that I’ve gotten a lot of.. Publicity after Zero Day and it takes so much time just to pacify these people. It can be very frustrating.” His expression turned troubled. 

Superman continued, “You were right the first time we met. There is a lot to accomplish and help out with. Sometimes the fans help but, but most of the time they get in the way of the work. I just wish there was some way to channel their- obsession elsewhere.” 

How responsible of him. He hadn’t realized how personal Superman had taken Zero Day, until now. It was satisfying that Superman did realize that there were many issues caused by Zero Day and wanted to take responsibility. (And there was another part of Bruce that was pained that this man was being affected even so much time after the event.) Bruce wished he could also tell him about the trouble not only for the game, but the creators, but there was no way for Bruce to say it like this. 

Batman stayed silent. 

The silence stretched as Superman continued to look troubled. Bruce typed in a response, “Why don’t you be rude to them,” Bruce typed, and then Batman tacked on, “You shouldn’t let your missions be affected by others.” 

“I’ve thought about being rude,” Superman admitted. “Maybe sending a message out, but-” Superman paused. 

“They’re just supporting me,” Superman said, a little more quietly than before. “And I doubt that whatever I say will change their behavior.” 

Surprisingly, Batman answered, “That’s very likely,” the hero said. 

“Yeah, I know,” Superman said with a sigh, then the hero turned towards him, “Thank you for listening.”

Batman nodded. Then turned away. 

“Do you-”

Batman paused at the sound of Superman’s voice. 

“Do you mind if I talk to you in the future?” 

Surprisingly, Batman nodded. “If it affects your performance. I would rather know these things beforehand.” 

Then he used his grappling hook to swing away. 

\-----

Clark stared after Batman even after the man disappeared from his sight and even after his super senses could no longer pick up the presence of the masked hero. There was a soft beep of a message and Clark jolted back to his senses, steering Superman away from No Man’s Land and back into The City. 

He should start his stream soon. 

He made himself smile to see if he was up for it and found himself smiling quite easily. 

Huh.

Maybe it was good that he got all of that off his chest, and in a healthy way too. He didn’t bottle it up, but he didn’t hurt anyone either. And really, what was the harm of telling an NPC his real life woes? 

(It helped too, the role-playing. Pretending it was S’ problems and not Clark Kent's problems. The removal of himself helped with the talking-aloud part.) 

And when he started his stream, he was relaxed. It was a casual night with his followers, although he did get some comments asking why he was grinning so much…

\-----

That was…

The conversation was exactly what Bruce had been looking for. This was the reason why Bruce started following the Batman NPC. He wanted to know more about Clark. 

Bruce thought himself to be lucky. This was definitely a rare insight into Clark’s mind. 

But surprisingly, Superman continued to seek Batman out and talk to him. Bruce didn’t think the character was a very good conversationalist, even with himself chiming in every once in a while, but Superman seemed to be very satisfied by the conversations, especially since he kept coming back over and over again. 

Enough so that Batman didn’t turn away the man anymore and instead patiently listened. 

While the context of these conversations were always about the game, Bruce knew that they were often about the real world. 

And what he discovered listening in on these conversations was.. that Clark was very normal. 

That he had fears and weaknesses like everybody else, that he struggled, and that he was a good person. 

And a very good role model for his kids. 

This was not a ‘holier than thou’ utuber, not an influencer, not someone who let their recent celebrity status go to their head. This was a good man, who happened to be good at his job and had gained unprecedented recognition for it. No wonder his kids liked S, liked Clark. They were a good judge of character. 

(Better judges of character than him it seemed, which was how it should be. It was just Bruce who couldn’t shake off his bad habits and paranoia.) 

At this point, Bruce knew he should have stopped using Batman as a backdoor to the game, stopped using it as a way to interact with S. He had confirmed that S was normal and he was starting to change the NPC’s personality by taking over so often. He could use the time he spent investigating and do something else. 

He could watch his kids play or even create a character of his own to play with them. He knew for a fact that the kids often played group missions together and chatted in game. Bruce wouldn’t force himself into their gameplay, but he could be an option to play with. 

Yet…

He felt an itch at the thought of stopping his investigations. A burn at the thought of not knowing more about Clark Kent, the man behind Superman. Bruce had only scratched the surface of the man. He couldn’t bear the thought of missing something in his investigations that would come back to hurt the others later. 

He would see this through. (And the thought of interacting with Clark again made something in Bruce loosen.)

Besides, listening to game chatter with Batman had reasons for helping the Injustice game, not just for investigation purposes. 

There was no reason to stop, especially if he kept things professional. 

\-----

Batman kept things professional. Other than the times where he would listen to Superman’s troubles, Batman didn’t allow anything to come in between him and his mission. Superman respected that, although he didn’t allow that to stop him from taking liberties. (Mainly in the form of being friendly.) 

Bruce thought that things would continue this way, but he should have known that allowing the talking would change things. It wasn’t very long until Bruce was warily watching Batman hand something over to Superman. 

“What’s this, B?” 

  1. It was a nickname that Superman had taken to calling Batman after finding that he couldn’t use the superhero’s name in a serious conversation. Batman had allowed it, because the anonymity was seen as a good thing. But to Bruce, it blurred the line of Superman talking to Batman and Superman addressing Bruce. 



“It’s a communication device,” Bruce snapped back to the conversation as Batman explained the small item. “You can’t keep flying around No Man’s Land trying to find me.” 

“We can't keep meeting like this?” Superman said jokingly, but he took the offered device with near reverence. 

“Don’t use it for unofficial reasons,” Batman continued, “But if there’s work to be done, then you can use it to contact me.” 

“Of course,” Superman said. 

Bruce got the distinct impression that he wasn’t telling the truth. 

\-----

Bruce was proven right when Superman used the communicator every chance he got (or at least it felt that way). Superman called for help with missions, or offered his help in return. Superman called when he wanted to talk about his troubles. Eventually Superman contacted Batman every so often to make sure he was doing okay. 

At first Batman only allowed the use of the communicator in a professional sense. As soon as he found that the communicator was being used otherwise, he would hang-up. However, Superman was clever and often found ways to spend time with the territory hero anyways. 

But Bruce saw it. Slowly, bit by bit, Batman thawed. The territory hero eventually started listening to what Superman had to say in the communicator, no matter how mundane. Then he started to meet with Superman even though it had nothing to do with superhero work. Until eventually, the communicator was used just as a means to talk between the two. 

When they started talking about mundane things like how they took their coffee (Batman took it the same way Bruce did), Bruce came to the realization that the two heroes were friends. 

(Bruce felt a curl of guilt at watching it all develop.) 

He hoped he wouldn’t intrude any further, but he couldn’t look away. 

\-----

“..And that wraps up all the planning for the convention. Are there any questions, guys?” Bouncy looked up from his notes to see if anyone would reply. 

Most of the Legionnaires said ‘no’.

“Well, feel free to talk to me after the meeting if you have any questions. Make sure you get your itinerary finalized and send them to Brainy who will put it on the shared drive. I’ll put this reminder in the meeting notes too. Alright then, the next part of the agenda is the Storytime Podcast. Let me set up the recording stuff,” Bouncy started fiddling with something on screen. 

“Sorry, I have another stream to get to,” PhantomGrl said before bowing out. 

A few other Legionnaires also said their goodbyes and Clark did too, except-

“S, do you mind if I join your stream?” Brainy asked. “Unfortunately, my usual guest of honor isn’t available today.” 

“Oh, sorry Brainy, I’m not doing a stream,” Clark said, hoping like he didn’t sound like he was blowing Brainy off (even though he kinda was). “I’m meeting with someone else in the game,” Clark added. 

Brainy smiled, not at all offended, when LightningLad snorted. 

“Got a hot date?” He asked with a sly grin. 

“What? No,” Clark said, maybe a little too quickly. 

A few other Legionnaires turned towards him in interest. 

“No need to be shy, S. You can tell us,” Triplicate said with a grin. “You’ve been playing an awful lot without streaming lately, haven’t you?”

Clark’s cheeks start to heat up just from her gaze. She always did like to tease him. “I’m just- it’s not like that.” 

“Ooo, they must be extra special to make you blush like that, S,” InvisiLad says. 

Oh, they’re special alright, Clark said to himself as he thought of the Bat-themed territory hero. And attractive, Clark admitted. 

“No, they’re- it’s an NPC guys,” Clark said aloud. 

“Even better,” Triplicate said. “I’m dating a few NPCs in-game for each of my personas, but I’m super curious to hear what’s your type.”

“Yeah, S. Give us the deets.” 

“I’m interested in hearing if you’re amicable to sharing.”

“Do we know them?”

“Guys, it’s not like that,” Clark said to their eager faces. 

“Well if that’s something you  _ could _ be interested in, I would definitely suggest it,” Triplicate said brightly. “They’re so real and thoughtful, well the hero I’m dating is. There’s also a rough and gruff civilian, and an evil genius super-villain. Oh, but of course none of them could match up to you, Bouncy,” Triplicate said, shooting her boyfriend a smile. 

“Makes sense that you need at least three partners if you can’t date me. Feel free to date more if they can’t satisfy you like I can,” Bouncy said with a grin. 

Triplicate giggled. 

“A super-villain? Really?” Someone asked. Not meanly, but a bit incredulously. 

Triplicate shrugged. “They’re fun to date. Anyways it’s no big deal. Hell, I’m dating NPCs even though I have a real boyfriend. You’re among friends here, S.” 

“I haven’t thought of him that way,” Clark coughed. 

Triplicate’s grin grew. 

Clark realized what he said. 

“LookatthetimeIbettergetgoing,” and he promptly ended the call. 

Once the call went dark, Clark sighed. He got a few messages right away, apologies for the teasing, and Clark messaged them back saying it was fine. Because really, it was okay. He just wasn’t expecting to get ambushed about his love life, or about the fact that he’s been secretly meeting with Batman for awhile. 

Part of the reason why he wanted to keep the meetings a secret was because Batman was _ very _ private. The hero often disappeared if he was with company and so Clark was quick to make sure that he was alone during his time with the NPC. That also meant no revealing his connection with Batman in stream or any of his videos. 

But there was a part of him that wanted to tell the Legionnaires. They would surely keep it a secret and he was sure they would be interested to hear about their interactions (sometimes he wondered if the others also have special meet-ups with the territory heroes and if they were also keeping it a secret), but it felt like breaking Batman’s trust. Especially after Clark had been the communication device and after all the territory hero has revealed. 

The hero didn’t say much, but Clark could read between the lines. Batman was a hero because something in his life made it so he couldn’t be anything else. 

Clark shook his head. There was no reason to be guilty about not telling the Legionnaires. First and foremost, Clark was playing Injustice because it was fun. If it wasn’t fun, he would find a different game. And part of the fun was the fact that he did have a secret life in the game, as Henry Cavill, and as a partner to Batman. 

Right, he’s not going to feel bad about keeping secrets. 

With that decided, Clark logged into Injustice. He should start playing immediately when most of the group was distracted by the podcast they were recording. 

\-----

The sunset was beautiful, even in-game, especially in-game. Clark could stare right at it without any detriment, enjoying the swirl of bright colors and how they cast The City in lovely red, orange, and yellow hues. The light reflected off the glass and chrome making the territory sparkle. It was a much different sight than Smallville. (It reminded him of Metropolis.) 

Clark was content. 

Although, that might have also been because of the company he had with him. 

Batman was next to him. 

They had finished working on a mission together and Batman took a moment to log his work. Normally, the brusque territory hero would never stay long enough to be seen by others, but now the other hero trusted S enough to do the work next to him. 

The show of trust was.. flattering. Clark could say with certainty that no other player had this kind of relationship with Batman. 

_ “Got a hot date?” _

LightningLad’s words came to mind and Clark flushed. Hanging out after superhero work wasn’t much of a date...was it? 

No, of course it wasn’t. At least- only because Clark hadn’t thought about it that way until now. But now he was thinking about it, and how he was so close to Batman. How Batman said that no others knew anything about his background. 

It worked the other way, too. There weren’t many that Clark talked to about his troubles, well, S’ troubles, with. Clark had a few friends, but Batman was one of a kind. 

Clark took another discerning look at the hero, tilting his camera again, so it looked like his character wasn’t looking. His eyes did start to roam the man’s form and the intrusion to the man’s privacy had Clark looking away from his monitor. Well, he was certainly attracted to the character. And.. if another player or NPC were to date the hero, he would be very disappointed. Envious even. 

Dating an NPC.. was just another part of the game. He could write an article about it, if things went well. 

Besides, it wasn’t like dating Batman was a sure thing. Partnership and camaraderie didn’t guarantee a romance. He wouldn’t be too disappointed if Batman rejected him (at least, he didn’t think so). 

Right. Clark could just try. 

\-----

“Come on, it’s my treat.” 

Bruce stared at the screen and watched as Batman tentatively took the cup of coffee that Superman was offering. He wished he could see the expression his character was making, because Superman grinned once the NPC took the cup. 

“Thanks,” Batman said gruffly. 

There had been a marked change in Superman’s behavior as of late. Small, but very deliberate actions. Like offering to buy a coffee or pastry for Batman, or wanting to spend time alone working next to each other, or even the man suggesting that Batman should take breaks every once in a while. Superman would even offer to patrol Batman’s areas so that Batman could rest. 

Batman. An NPC. Resting. 

Which wasn’t as incredulous as Bruce was making it out to be, the NPCs did need food and rest, but Superman’s treatment of Batman was unique, to say the least. Bruce noticed that not many players treated the NPCs with the same courtesy. Superman treated NPCs kindly, but he had been taking it one step further lately. He even dolled out warm smiles and grins to further show his enjoyment. 

There was a distinct possibility of why Superman was behaving this way, but Bruce didn’t allow himself to consider it until Superman asked Batman out on a date. 

A date. 

Then Bruce had to come to the conclusion that Superman was romantically interested in Batman. Of course, there was the fact to consider that Batman was an NPC, player/NPC relationships weren’t taken too seriously (for the most part), but Bruce can barely wrap his head around the fact that someone (let alone Clark Kent, Superman) wanted to date Batman. Because if they wanted to date Batman, there was a possibility that they would like…

Well, it’s no concern of Bruce’s, especially when (maybe unsurprisingly) Batman rejects Superman. 

(Although Bruce thought that the reason Batman rejected Superman wasn’t because of lack of interest, but due to Batman’s duty to his mission.)

But Superman, as Bruce has learned, was particularly stubborn and continued- courting Batman. Bruce watched as Batman’s programming allowed the courting and after some time, eventually wavered and accepted the man’s courtship. 

This was the time for Bruce to step out and stop watching the game as Batman. He really should, but Bruce can’t stop. He can’t help but watch the warped mirror of himself, his character, be romanced by the player. 

And he couldn’t help but notice that Superman and Batman had something special, something that Bruce Wayne couldn’t touch. (Bruce wondered if Clark felt the same way. That even though he was Superman, it wasn’t the same as being Superman.) 

But Bruce could meet with Clark. The convention was coming up and the Let’s Player had agreed to be a guest. 

\-----

Dating Batman was much more bittersweet than Clark expected. 

Maybe he should have realized the consequences when he had kept pursuing the hero, but he hadn’t realized the folly of his actions until they were dating. There was something very precious about having a partner in the game, one that cared for him and spent time with him and looked out for him. But it was torture because Batman, as amazing as he was, was only a videogame character. 

He was just a videogame character, yet no person Clark had met could compete with Batman’s kindness or heart. He was ruined. Maybe the NPC was just programming and an AI, but Clark knew that if he tried to date people in real life, he would always compare them to Batman. 

Triplicate had said that dating NPCs was harmless, but Clark had to disagree. Or maybe it wasn’t harmless to Clark because he always wore his heart on his sleeve. 

That didn’t stop Clark from dating Batman, though. He couldn’t help himself because having Batman by his side- was perfect. 

He almost regretted having to go to the convention and not see Batman in-game. 

But when he mentioned the event to Batman (stating that he had some personal business to attend to), Batman had told him to go. 

“I’ll take care of things while you’re away,” he had said quietly. 

How could Clark make excuses after hearing that? 

Clark waited for the convention to come with trepidation. 


	10. Before the convention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Tags/Warnings: a sense of loss from what could have been
> 
> Word Count: ~5.5k

“S!” 

Clark almost doesn’t turn around he was so surprised to hear someone call him his username in real life, but he recognized the voice and turned to see a very familiar face. He grinned. 

“Bouncy!” Clark cried and he lifted up the man in a bearhug. 

“Damn, I can see that your game character isn’t an exaggeration,” Bouncy said, hugging him back. “You’re like, exactly like I imagined.” 

Clark chuckled. “You’ve seen me in a video chat before.” 

“I know, but that’s totally different. God, you’re built like a brick house, Clark.” 

“Thanks, Bouncy. It’s from working on the farm.” 

It was something Bouncy said to him before, so thankfully he wasn’t too surprised to hear it in person. (The first time he had flushed and had almost spit out his water. Thankfully, no one had seen him do so.) 

But Clark kinda understood where Bouncy was coming from. Intellectually, he knew how short Bouncy was, but it was something else to see how short he was in person. Bouncy didn’t even come up to his chin. But it was also interesting to know that in person, Bouncy was just as warm and reassuring (maybe even more so) as he was across a screen. 

Meeting Bouncy in person really was like having a reunion with an old friend. That was the reason why when they finally let go, Clark let Bouncy help him with his belongings. Then they grabbed a share ride to the hotel that all the Legionaries were going to stay in. Normally, it would just be Bouncy (responsible leader that he was) checking in first and making sure that everything was in order. He would then meet up with the Wayne Industries and Toyman Games representative and plan out everybody's schedule days in advance. 

However that plan had been botched up after LightningLad had publicly announced a fan meet-up after his arrival. This had the unintended consequence of revealing both the airport that the Legionnaires were arriving in and the general time most of them were coming. The Legion had all collectively winced when they spotted fans talk about how they would stake out the airport in the hope of seeing their favorite Let’s Players. 

One secret conversation later and Clark, who was definitely the most popular Legionnaire at the moment (and the most at risk of being mobbed), decided to take an early flight, meeting Bouncy at the airport. 

With just the two of them arriving way ahead of the convention, they hoped they wouldn’t be recognized. (Clark couldn’t help but wear flannel though. It was his norm, although he didn’t push it by wearing his glasses. Those went in his front pocket.) Thankfully, they weren’t. 

The whole experience was less stressful than Clark was expecting it to be. He took a direct flight (paid for by Wayne Industries) in the middle of the week when the crowds were negligible. He people watched for fun during the flight, and arrived to find Bouncy waiting for him. They fell into an easy rhythm, with their similar dispositions, food tastes, and experience in traveling (very little). Bouncy, however, did seem more worldly than Clark, so he followed his cues. But both of them stared out the window of their ride. 

Clark hadn’t been in a city for quite some time, but Gotham was something else. All dark architecture, that sprawled high and seemed to have no rhyme or reason. There was a charm to it though, with its clear historical architecture and gothic imagery. It reminded him of a certain in-game hero. 

Clark shook his head and joined in the conversation that Bouncy started with the share ride driver. 

This trip was meant to be for fun and for meeting his friends in person. (Not mooning after someone he could never have.) 

\-----

“We can’t check in until 4pm?” 

The clerk at the front desk gives them a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry. In the meantime, we can hold onto your bags while you head out into the city.” 

Clark and Bouncy shared a look. Gotham was a big city and was infamous for its crime, even in its nicer areas. While neither of the two were innocent or naive, they knew they were out of their depth in Gotham. 

“We’ll just wait in the lobby,” Bouncy said with a sigh. 

“Really? And here I was hoping to take you guys on a tour.” 

The voice sounded familiar although Clark couldn’t place who it was. They turn around to see-

“Toyman?” Bouncy said aloud, before quickly correcting himself, “Er, Mr. Hiro Okamura?”

“Hiro or Toyman is fine,” the legend himself said with a chuckle.

Hiro Okamura (just “Hiro”) was even more charismatic in person than he was in his videos. The few people that were in the lobby turned to look at him and instantly knew who he was and were charmed. His larger than life persona was impressive, especially when he walked closer and Clark realized how short the young man was. He was even shorter than Bouncy, although Hiro could have still been growing. 

“Er, Hiro?” Bouncy’s good manners immediately has him offering a hand to shake. Hiro took the hand and went in for a bro-hug. Bouncy looked even more star struck than before. “When you said a tour..?” 

“You sent your itinerary to me remember? I saw that you were going to get in super early so I thought, ‘why not a tour?’, then I grabbed Tim-“ 

“Hey.” Tim Drake-Wayne, who was apparently standing behind Hiro the whole time, gave them a casual wave. 

“Tim Drake-Wayne!” Bouncy almost squealed. 

“-Yeah! Tim and I thought it would be fun to take anyone who was early on an impromptu tour!” Hiro continued, slinging an arm around Tim, who smiled indulgently and allowed himself to get hanged off of. 

“If you guys are up for it,” Tim said. “But we understand that we’re springing this on you without any notice.” 

“Or! We could hang out here at the hotel,” Hiro added. 

“And miss the chance of getting a tour of Gotham with Hiro Okamura and Tim Drake-Wayne? No way!” Bouncy immediately said with no shame. He voiced Clark’s inner thoughts as well. Then he turned to the hotel clerk. “Thank you very much for your help. We’ll-“

“You can take your stuff with us,” Tim added. 

“-Take our stuff with us,” Bouncy finished. 

They grab their stuff and piled into a car- no, they got into Hiro’s personal limo. (A limo!) The tourists agree to go on a quick tour of the normal touristy things in Gotham. 

The driver took off smoothly and Hiro continued rattling off information about Gotham as they drove. Clark made sure to pay attention but found his gaze being drawn to Tim. There was something familiar about the young man that Clark couldn’t place. Maybe it was his demeanor, or the way he talked, but there was just something-

Tim huffed out a laugh. 

“Alan Draper?” Clark said aloud. 

The others looked at him, Bouncy in particular looked confused. 

Clark feels his cheeks turn red, “Sorry, it was just-”

“Was he your introductory NPC?” Hiro asked. He sounded curious. 

Clark nodded. 

“That’s hilarious! Alan Draper's design is actually based off of Tim when he’s at the end of a programming binge-” Hiro laughed while Tim rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe you caught that.”

“He,” changed Clark’s username to Superman in game, it was hard to forget, “-was memorable.” 

“You mean he was a dick to you?” Hiro said. 

Clark tried not to agree even if it was true. 

“He was.. programmed that way,” Tim offered in way of explanation. 

“Oh yeah, he gave you the name Superman, didn’t he S?” Bouncy said. 

“Really? Huh, so you didn’t choose that name for yourself?” 

“No.. no I didn’t.” 

From there, they launched into a conversation about the AI and the various events they had seen, and Hiro and Tim offered their expertise on what they were expecting to happen and what actually happened. (“Pure hilarity,” Hiro said.) Then the two creators revealed that most of the biggest characters in the game were based off of real people. Either people they knew, or an inside joke, or people who had won contests. For example, the whole Shazam Family was actually based on a group of kids that benefit from the Martha Wayne Foundation. 

Clark was shocked that he hadn’t heard news of that. That sort of philanthropy was definitely media worthy, but here they were just doing it for the hell of it. (Or maybe because they didn’t think it was a big deal. But it was.) 

It was a breath of fresh air for Clark, former investigative journalist-in-training, who had been exposed to the gilded side of meeting with the “interview” worthy. Too bad that he couldn’t write an official article about the two of them (although a blog post wouldn’t go amiss). 

(And in the back of his mind… Clark wondered. If territory controllers were considered important and were based off of real people, then who was Batman based off of? He was afraid to ask.) 

Clark put the thought out of his mind as they continued the tour. 

Tim and Hiro asked the driver to bring them past the bridge, City Hall, the library, the local art, while pointing out all the good restaurants all the way. At the end of their drive, they arrived at their number one desired place to visit: the Toyman Game office. 

It looked just as good as the pictures, with a pool table, and games, and free food, but it was very professional otherwise. Walls that came up as cubicles, offices, and professional cleaning services and clear rules for sanitation and where to eat the food. 

The people working (besides Hiro) were wearing business casual, nicer than the clothes Clark wore when he gamed (making him feel self-conscious in the flannel). They kept working even after they introduced themselves, and it was crazy how many of them recognized him and Bouncy. It was.. flattering. Flattering and lucrative, as Clark networked and managed to secure a quite a few interviews. 

It was crazy how easy it was to interact with everybody, even as Clark and Bouncy found themselves starstruck by the faces they recognized. Like there was Victor “Cyborg” Stone and Barry “The Flash” Allen. (Wow, did they look and act so much like their territory hero counterparts.) They moved easily through the office, Tim and Hiro proving to be excellent hosts. 

Clark was so comfortable he even agreed to a video that would be posted on the Legionnaire channel. 

“Hey guys, this is your captain of the Legionnaires, Bouncy! Here at Toyman Games with S!” Bouncy announced into his camera, grinning widely. 

Clark waved into the camera. “Hey guys, this is S41838.” 

“And we’re here at Toyman Games with a special tour from Hiro ‘Toyman’ Okamura and Tim Drake-Wayne! Yeah, I can hear your jealousy from here, but don’t worry, you’ll be traveling right here beside us…”

Bouncy kept a steady chatter as they recorded. Clark felt himself calm down. Bouncy always had a special touch for making it so Clark didn’t mind being recorded. (Clark never did get rid of his dislike for content with his face on it.) Luckily, Clark didn’t appear in much of anything, because the main star of the show was the gaming company and its workers. 

There was so much to film, they ended up recording for hours, talking about the games, playing pool with Hiro and the others, or just shooting the breeze, not even realizing that time was passing until they were interrupted. 

“Are we still on for dinner?” A somewhat familiar voice said from the doorway. 

They were in Hiro’s executive office, going over his design process, when Clark turned around to see a very handsome and familiar man. Bruce Wayne was casually leaning against the door in a very expensive and well-tailored suit. He was looking at them wryly. 

Clark was struck speechless. 

Tim popped his head out from around the doorway, “You’re free to join us, S, Bouncy.” 

“I insist, actually,” Hiro added. “I’m assuming it’s really late?”

“It’s already 6:30. The others are at the manor. But yes, your,” Bruce gives both LPers a brief once over that made Clark want to shy away, “colleagues, can join us.”

Bouncy turned off his camera and then made his way over. “Thank you for having the Legionnaires at the convention Mr. Wayne. My name is, Bouncy, or Chuck Taine,” Bouncy said, offering him his hand. 

They shook hands and Clark busied himself by putting away the equipment as Bouncy took care of the small talk (thank god). Hiro was distracted by Tim, and so Clark was able to prepare himself for the inevitable introduction. He stole a few looks in the meantime, trying to get a gauge on the man in front of them. 

And what he noticed was Bruce Wayne was.. very handsome. 

He looked different from the media pictures Clark had seen of him. A little more tired, with his five-o-clock shadow, the more pronounced bags under his eyes, and with his suit rumpled. It reminded Clark more of his tabloid pictures. (Not that Clark believed any of that garbage, but he kept a hand on the pulse, as was the journalism industry standard.) But tabloids were always photoshopped to make people look their worst, so they never showed how charming the man was when he wasn’t perfect. So what Clark saw in front of him was a very normal and handsome man. (Attainable even.) 

Clark looked away and made sure all their things were packed. 

They filed out the door, all pasing Bruce Wayne in the doorway. Finally, it was Clark’s turn. 

“Thank you for inviting us, Mr. Wayne. I’m Clark Kent,” he said, offering his hand. 

Mr. Wayne gave him a rather obvious once-over (oh boy, he had thought that maybe the man’s reputation as a flirt was just his reputation), nothing particularly sleazy, just, deliberate. Clark felt very self-conscious in his plain jeans, flannel, and airport aroma. He’s about to say something when Mr. Wayne smiled. 

It’s not a particularly large smile, but his lips quirk up at the edges and his eyes crinkle and the act deepens the crow’s feet around his eyes. It’s a very nice smile. 

Then Mr. Wayne took his hand, gave it a shake and said, “Please, call me Bruce.”

“Thank you, Bruce,” Clark said, a tad too breathlessly for his liking. Damn the man’s gaze was intense and he felt like they were holding eye contact for a little too long than what was socially acceptable. 

Surprisingly, it’s Bruce who looks away first with a shake of his head. “I hope you’re prepared, S. Or I hope Superman is prepared, because my kids are very excited to meet you. Let me know if it gets to be too much,” he said, his smile turning a touch rueful. 

“Thanks for the warning,” Clark said. Clark really didn’t interact with kids, but if he remembered correctly all of Bruce’s kids were older, not one under the age of ten. He could handle older kids. Maybe they were fans? He could definitely interact with fans. (Was Bruce Wayne a fan? No, no, he probably just knew Clark’s identity from his most recent increased celebrity status and/or his kids. )

A warm hand pressed against his back, leading him away from the office. The gesture was friendly, but Clark almost jumped at the contact. It wasn’t like a touch among friends, but like the tentative touch of a comfortable acquaintance, which made Clark all the more aware of the touch happening. 

Clark didn’t brush the hand away. 

“Come on,” Bruce said. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

\-----

Clark was wrong. Twenty minutes into dinner, he was wondering if he should pull Bruce aside for the break the man promised. 

“Your article about corporate margins in Metropolis was an enlightening read.”

“Thanks, Damian,” Clark said with a smile. Then they continued to discuss Clark’s articles as Clark wondered what kind of twelve year old was so well-read about business management.

“Your perspective as a journalist and then a Let’s Player makes your articles very refreshing,” Duke added. “Do you like having a wide perspective? I’m thinking about my career path right now, and I’d love to get your opinion as someone with a dual career path.”

Clark answered that question too, to the best of his abilities, but he had to think a little before each answer. Duke was clearly just curious and not interrogating him, but Clark felt like he owed the teen a thoughtful answer. 

It had been like this all night, after introductions. Thoughtful and smart questions (a far cry from the easy and often repetitive questions his stream tended to ask) from about a dozen or so ‘kids’. (Some who were pretty close to his and Bouncy’s age. And there were clearly more than ‘Bruce’s children’ here at the dinner, but it would have been rude to ask who the others were.) And even questions from Bruce’s butler (who wasn’t just a butler). 

If Bouncy hadn’t here, Clark would have been overwhelmed. Even with Bouncy, Clark was still on the verge of being overwhelmed, especially when everyone was so clearly curious about how Superman had triggered the Zero Day event. (Besides Tim, Alfred, Bruce, and Hiro. In fact, Hiro looked a little too knowing for his liking. The creator probably knew about Henry Cavill.) 

By the end of dinner, Clark was this close to locking himself in the bathroom for some time alone, when he saw how many dishes were left. 

He immediately moved to help, but Alfred was quick to whisk any objects out of his hand. “None of that, Mister Kent. You’re a guest.”

Clark wanted to argue (beg him to let Clark hide in the kitchen from the others) when he got invitations from the kids to play games. His smile didn’t falter and he mentally prepared himself to become S. 

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Why don’t you kids show Chuck the VR set that we have. I’m going to steal Mr. Kent here.” 

“Oh. My. GOD! Don’t tell me that you have the Wayne VR set!” Bouncy exclaimed. 

Bouncy easily garnered the attention of the others, letting Bruce and Clark slip out. Clark followed as Bruce led him out to a balcony overlooking Wayne Manor. It was a bit chilly, but nothing he couldn’t handle. 

The sight was.. rather gloomy to be honest. Dark trees, the shoreline barely visible and murky, and the stars nowhere to be seen. 

“It's the light pollution. Even near the shoreline, we’re too close to civilization,” Bruce said, startling out Clark out of his thoughts. “I hope you like coffee.”

He was handed a warm mug and took a sip. With some cream, sugar, and nutmeg. Very close to perfect, but only his Ma made it perfectly. “No, it’s perfect.”

“It’s how Alfred normally doctors it for guests.” Bruce said in way of explanation, sipping his own mug, which looked darker than Clark’s own. Black coffee, interesting. “Did I save you in time from the hoard?”

“From the-” Clark can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth, “Really?”

“I warned you.” 

“Ha, you did.”

They fall into silence after Clark got the last of his laughter out. 

“I get it,” Bruce said. His profile stood out against the dark sky and there was something about how he looked so different from the media image that made Clark stare. His messed up hair and the jawline- Clark tried not to look too closely. 

“There’s a difference between doing an interview and having your public persona in place versus having someone confront you in your personal life. I understand that,” Bruce continued. 

Clark nodded along. “Yeah.. yeah. It’s one thing to be a certain way when I’m expecting it, but having to be this way all the time can be tiring.” 

Clark looked over to Bruce smirking at him. 

“So the tables have turned,” Bruce said. 

Wha..? Oh wait, he’s a journalist- “Just because I’m a journalist doesn’t mean I’m going to report everything, Bruce.” 

Bruce chuckled and the sound made his stomach do some twists (out of embarrassment of being teased, he’s sure). “Maybe I’m the nosy one in this situation then,” Bruce said, before deftly plucking Clark’s glasses from out of his shirt pocket and putting them on. The man immediately made a face. “These aren’t prescriptions.”

“The lenses filter out blue-light from a screen, so my eyes don’t get tired,” Clark was quick to say. 

“Makes sense,” Bruce's face returned to normal. Then he cleared his throat and did this lean-in that had Clark mentally scrambling. “So tell me, Superman, how does it feel to be spending the night with one of Gotham’s most eligible bachelors?” 

Clark snorted. “Is that the kind of interview we’re going for? I thought you were reporting as a reputable nosy person.”

“I’m sure there are those at the Gotham Gazette that would disagree with you. This sort of news can be highly sought after,” Bruce said seriously, although his eyes crinkled at the edges showing off his amusement. It was.. interesting to see Bruce Wayne amused, while wearing his glasses. Then his expressions turned a little more mild. “..Unless you have an issue with the pursuit of this topic? I realize that your own life has been seriously affected after the media blowout.”

God, there were so many issues from what was actually being reported on him, his new micro-celebrity status, to the changes in his life, and how it affected things like just going to a game convention- It was a lot. But when he hunkered down to think about Bruce’s question, he found himself surprisingly not-angry. His life was settling. Things weren’t perfect, but he wasn’t sure if he would change things now that they had happened. 

“Yes, I think I’m fine,” Clark said, even though that wasn’t quite what the question was asking. He felt like it warranted saying though. “Thanks for asking, Bruce.” 

Bruce’s expression softened before he slipped back into a fake journalist persona and started asking more questions. It made Clark laugh, which helped him to relax. They asked and answered questions back and forth, from easy questions (their favorite colors, favorite foods, recent books they read) which quickly dissolved into more in-depth answers (thoughts about the current state of politics, new trends in fashion, Lex Luthor’s business management abilities). 

While Clark wasn’t wary about discussing his opinions (after all, he already published them in articles), he never was this frank right away with a stranger. But talking with Bruce didn’t feel like talking with a stranger. Talking with Bruce was easy. The conversation flowed between them steadily and Clark didn’t even notice time passing by. 

When Alfred knocked on the glass doors separating them from the inside, informing them that they had been outside for over an hour, Clark had blinked in surprise. He almost didn’t catch the polite ‘oh and wouldn’t you prefer to come inside?’ being asked of them. 

Bruce faux-whispered at him, his lips close enough that Clark could feel the warmth of his breath ‘that’s how we know that Alfred wants us to come inside’. He paired the words with a wink, before taking off the glasses and sliding them back into Clark’s front pocket. Clark’s stomach flopped and he repressed a shiver as Bruce pulled away. When he went to secure the glasses he couldn’t help but notice the residual heat coming off of them. The thought that a Bruce had just worn them just seconds ago was-

Clark tossed the thought away and followed the man inside. 

They found Bouncy at the center of attention, playing through a VR game like a pro, with no less than three kids recording him, and all of them cheering him on. Not wanting to interrupt, Clark sat down with Bruce and they talked quietly amongst themselves while enjoying warm drinks and some snacks. 

When there was a lull, the others quickly inducted Clark into the game and he found himself facing off against Bouncy. They bantered back and forth, sending everyone (including themselves) into fits of laughter. When he lifted the headset off his head some time later, he wasn’t surprised to find it approaching midnight. 

He let Bouncy take back the spotlight, stating that he was getting tired. Then he rejoined Bruce on the couch. 

“Having fun?” Bruce asked. 

“Yes, the system, the game, the kids- it’s great,” Clark breathlessly said. He was still pumped from the adrenaline of playing the game. He was tempted to play some more, but he had to get back to reality. “But it’s late, and Bouncy and I still haven’t checked into the hotel.” 

“So if I suggest you stay at the manor for the night, then I suppose you won’t take me up on my offer?”

Brue asked him to stay the night- Clark gave himself a mental shake. He was only being polite. “I'd be more comfortable if I checked into the hotel first.” Then Clark dropped his voice, “And if I’m there I’ll be able to be- myself.” 

Bruce nodded in understanding, before standing. “I’ll drive you back then.” 

Clark stood up himself, feeling the last of the adrenaline leave him. The tiredness was hitting him all at once, especially with the time difference. He went to get Bouncy who was practically swaying on his feet. 

The other gamer yawned so largely, his jaw cracked. “Yeah, we should go,” Bouncy said, looking back at the VR set. 

Clark felt a pang of regret. This VR set and the games, with its whole new set of strategies was the type of thing that would be the bread and butter of Bouncy’s channels once it became mainstream (and maybe even before it would be mainstream). 

“You know what, I can check in for the both of us. Why don’t you stay here for the night?” Clark offered. 

Bouncy blinked, his gaze flicking over Clark’s shoulder before looking back to him. “You sure, pal?” 

“I’m sure.” 

“Then I’ll take the both of you up on the offer. Thanks, Bruce, for letting me stay.” 

“It’s no problem,” Bruce replied. 

“I’ll have a room prepared for you,” Alfred added, making Clark and Bouncy jump. “Afterwards, I can drive Mister Kent-“ 

“That won’t be necessary, Alfred,” Bruce smoothly interrupted. “I can drive.” 

A smoothly arched brow was Alfred's only reply before the man cleared his throat. “As you wish. Then Mister Taine, would you be willing to follow me? I’ll show you to your room and if you wish, you can continue to use the game system. I have the feeling the others may be up for quite some time…” 

Bruce tipped his head to the side before heading out and Clark followed him as they left the entertainment room. 

“I can call a cab you know. You don’t have to drive me back,” Clark said. A ride would be pricey, especially at this hour and that distance, but having Bruce himself drive him back was a bit much. The man didn’t have to go through so much trouble. 

Bruce shook his head. “I’m a night owl myself. And the roads will be empty. It’s a good time to get in a drive.” 

Clark’s face screwed up in displeasure. His Ma taught him better than to take advantage of another’s kindness, but Clark also had the feeling that Bruce wasn’t going to let him go back on his own. He nodded and thanked Bruce. Then he followed the man through the winding manor. 

Eventually, they came to the garage which was filled to the brim with cars. Clark wasn’t into cars, but even he could tell that there were many cars worth  _ a lot _ in the garage. Millionaire indeed. 

“Don’t worry, this garage is for everybody. Not all of them are mine,” Bruce teased, as if he could read Clark’s mind. 

Right. He had almost a dozen ‘kids’ that could drive. It wouldn’t be too strange to have so many cars. Clark gingerly made his way around them, stepping next to the sporty and sleek car that Bruce chose for their ride. And though Clark wasn’t into cars, even he could read the logo and recognize the name. (Geez, Clark had only touched Lamborghinis in-game.) 

When Clark actually sat in the car, he found the whole experience surreal. Bruce Wayne was driving him back to the hotel in a several hundred-thousand dollar car. 

Bruce moved to start the car, before pausing. “Am I right in thinking that you’re a bit of a thrill seeker, Clark?” 

Bruce’s expression was on the side of mischievous, and Clark had to clear his throat before answering, “I’m not opposed to a, a little bit of adventure,” he admitted. 

“We’ll take the scenic route then.” 

And the car jumped to life, before speeding out.

Clark clung to the handle as the car zoomed out of the driveway. They were definitely going faster than the speed limit, although Clark supposed it wasn’t an issue if there was no one on the road. 

He kept himself from squirming in his seat. While Clark wasn’t opposed to taking risks, he was normally in control. It was completely different to be at someone else’s mercy, but Clark supposed that if he was the one driving, then he couldn’t have enjoyed the spectacular view of the shoreline at night. 

“Woah…” 

Bruce chuckled (and his profile was backlit by the shoreline and the murky stars). 

“You should look the other way,” the man suggested with a grin. 

Clark turned his head to the right, looking out the passenger window. There was nothing but trees until-

Gotham. 

Across the bridge the city stood tall and proud. The city spiraled upwards, its unique architecture jutting up from the ground. The nonuniform lights stood out against its dark buildings like stars across the sky. The sky was hazy, illuminated like a candle, probably from the pollutants in the atmosphere, but not unbeautiful. 

“Lovely, isn’t she?” 

Bruce’s voice broke his reverie. Clark turned back to him to see the man looking straight at the road- no straight at Gotham. 

“Yes,” Clark said, slowly, “Gotham’s beautiful. Then again, all homes are rather beloved, aren’t they?” 

Bruce nodded and they fell into silence again. Clark went back to looking at the city, admiring how the city looked in the nighttime. There was an air of mystery that wasn’t there before. It was darker, grimmer, but the nighttime suited the city best. 

“There,” Bruce said, breaking the silence. “Look ahead.” 

Clark looked-

Metropolis. 

The air caught in his lungs. 

His perfect city. 

The skyline was different. Of course it was, he hadn’t been back for years, yet for every building he couldn’t recognize, there were three others that he did. He craned his neck up as they got closer and he loved the uniformity of the lights stretching up into the heavens. From here he could even spot the Daily Planet- 

Clark looked away. 

Then he jumped when he felt a hand on his knee. The hand was obviously Bruce’s- god, he had almost forgotten the man was there- but why..? Clark looked over to see Bruce staring straight ahead, his expression neutral. (Not that kind of touch then.) The man gave his knee a deliberate squeeze and lifted his hand away. 

(The touch had been so quick that Clark wondered if he had imagined it, if it weren’t for the lingering warmth on his thigh.)

Bruce sped up the car. 

\-----

Clark was in his hotel room. 

Clark only half-remembered coming into the hotel, checking in, and getting back to his room. Maybe he said a small word of goodbye to Bruce. 

But he found himself staring out of the hotel window to look at Metropolis across the water. He traced the familiar buildings with his eyes, eventually landing on the sight of the Daily Planet. He had to pull his eyes away. 

It hadn’t been his home for years now, but he still felt the city’s pull. 

In Injustice, Clark had known that some territories had been inspired by real destinations: Gotham for No Man’s Land, Atlantis for Oceanis, and The City for Metropolis, but playing games hadn’t prepared him for the wave of nostalgia that flooded him after seeing the city in person. There were so many missed opportunities there- 

Clark shook his head. 

No. He had to think about something else. He didn’t want to regret and wallow in his decisions for this trip. That’s right, he should concentrate on the trip. There was plenty more fun to be had and Clark was sure that things were only going to ramp up from here on out. 

The thought of a busy schedule and a lot of distractions were a balm to his troubled mind and he soon fell asleep to the thought of meeting the Legionnaires in person, seeing his fans, and the memory of Bruce’s smile. 


	11. The convention, but more imporantly, after the convention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: ~5.3k

The next day was a bit of a whirlwind. Clark woke up to the sound of his phone going off. He groggily answered it to hear Bouncy in the earpiece, telling Clark to get ready. Clark moved slowly until Bouncy started banging on the door telling him to ‘hurry it up already’. Then he’s rushing and they’re out of the room in less than ten minutes where Hiro and some of the others are waiting to get brunch. 

Their group was smaller than the night before and their average age is older so brunch would have been relaxed if it wasn’t for the fact that Clark still felt uneasy in front of his ‘fans’. 

Thankfully, after brunch the LPers are brought back to their hotel where Clark can lounge in peace. Bouncy, however, took a shower, set up his computer, and went right to editing their new footage. 

“Do you need any help, Bouncy?” Clark offered from his comfortable position in bed. He really didn’t want to move, but it was only polite. 

Instead of an answer, he felt a pillow hit his midsection. “Nah, you keep lazing around while I do all the hard work.”

“Got it.”

Clark went back to being lazy. Then moments later he pulled out his phone and started taking notes. The editing reminded Clark of all the ideas he had for articles he wanted to write. He had to write them down before he forgot them all. There would be a few articles about the convention, Gotham, the people, his experiences… Maybe he’ll get a few interviews in. Nothing too intrusive, but since he has the opportunity, he might as well make the most of it. 

“Oh, actually do you want to watch the recordings with me? That way you can take out what you want before I start major edits,” Bouncy asked. 

Clark groaned, but grumbled his assent. He hated watching himself on screen, but he didn’t want to be blind-sided by the footage Bouncy put out either. He chose the lesser of two evils and decided to watch. Bouncy, in celebration of the decision, hooked up his laptop to the tv so they could watch it in HD. 

They were settled in their respective beds, watching the recordings at triple the speed. Bouncy marked out areas for use and the areas to speed up or cut, while Clark made note of all the people who were potentially up for an interview. With Bouncy’s commentary (he laughed when Bouncy pointed out his first up-the-nose shot) and the sped up, higher pitched voices, Clark relaxed enough to laugh at his own footage. They provide their own commentary, laughing at things good-naturedly. 

“That flannel does not look good on camera.” 

“Gotham actually looks even more sketchy on camera.” 

“Wow, Hiro is really photogenic.” 

“He is, isn’t he? Surprisingly, Tim.. really isn’t.” 

“Yeah, he looks totally different from the official media photos.” 

They went back and forth. Having fun as they re-lived their once-in-a-lifetime trip. 

Clark started scribbling the start of an article when Bouncy gave a low whistle. 

“Damn, S. You were not subtle there,” Bouncy said. 

Confused, Clark looked up to see Bouncy pausing the video. It was right when Bruce had walked into Hiro’s office. The onscreen millionaire was leaning against the doorframe, his expression of fond amusement. He was looking off-camera, at Tim, if Clark remembered correctly. 

From the camera angle, the only other person in the shot was Clark who was- clearly staring holes into Bruce Wayne’s chest. Before Clark could stop him, Bouncy started the video up again and he watched himself eye the man. 

“Bouncy!” Clark cried. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I can cut it out,” Bouncy said with a wave of his hand. “Just thought you might wanna know. You know, just in case.”

“Please for the love of god, edit it out,” Clark buried his head in his hands. He hadn’t realized that that had been caught. Ugh, his  _ desire _ for Bruce Wayne immortalized on camera. 

“No worries,” Bouncy said, making another note (hopefully a note to edit that part out). Clark was tempted to ask him to send him the completed footage so he could check it before posting, but in the end, he didn’t. Bouncy was trustworthy. 

But just because Bouncy was trustworthy, didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole. The man rewound the video and played the footage at half-speed, chuckling the whole time. Clark had to watch himself check out Bruce Wayne in slow-mo. It was like watching a train wreck, he couldn’t look away. (At least Bouncy had the decency to look away during the second viewing.)

On screen, videoClark eventually looked away (thank goodness) and Clark watched as onscreenBruce shifted. Gone was the pleasant and polite smile; Bruce’s expression shifted, his lips turning into a line and his eyes sharpened. He straightened, no longer looking as relaxed-

But then video Clark turned off the camera and Clark was left wondering about the sudden change in videoBruce’s demeanor. 

\-----

The next few days were a whirlwind of activities. The Waynes (as Clark was thinking of them), invited them almost out every day. Whether it was grabbing a meal in Gotham’s best restaurant, getting a late night snack in a hole-in-a-wall, visiting the company, or going to see the Gotham sights, Bouncy and Clark accepted every invitation. Every trip was loads of fun, though Clark was starting to feel his age after each one. Thankfully, work and/or school gave the two LPers time to themselves. During their breaks, they rested. Bouncy edited his videos and texted Triplicate, while Clark wrote articles. 

Occasionally, Bruce joined them in their trips. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward. In fact, The Wayne kids had great fun over the fact that the ‘Party Prince of Gotham’ joined them. 

The only one who had an issue was Clark (and he kept it close to his chest). But that was Clark’s fault. There was just something about the man that drew Clark’s eyes. (And it wasn’t just the fact that the man was handsome.) Maybe it was the way Bruce walked or moved, but it was distracting. 

Bouncy teased that Clark had a big enough crush anyone could see from the moon and offered to distract the others so that Clark could get a moment alone. 

“But I will give the man the shovel talk if you two actually get serious,” Bouncy said, as Clark groaned into a pillow. “I know that his reputation is probably exaggerated, but he better treat you right. If he doesn’t, I’ll be sure to sic Triplicate on him” 

Clark tried to refute the claim of a ‘crush’ (it sounded so juvenile), but he couldn’t exactly explain his interest. Sure he was handsome, but there was something else. Something.. familiar. 

The reason why, didn’t click with Clark until the LPers were joining The Waynes at their private gym. It wasn’t the weirdest thing they had done together (that went to the time they did internet challenges at the Toyman Games offices), but it was one Clark was highly invested in. Most of The Waynes agreed that Clark could write a few fluff interest pieces about them, and sports were always a safe topic for that kind of article. 

But instead of being amazed by the state-of-the-art workout area that Clark was expecting (which they do have and he was amazed by), Clark gaped at the huge indoor-

“Is that a trapeze?” Bouncy exclaimed making sure to get it into his camera shot. He had to step back and pan his camera a few times to get it in the shot. 

“That’s not the only thing here,” Clark said as he stared at the gym in wonder. There looked to be a dance studio attached, where Clark could already see Cassandra practicing ballet. Martial art rings where Jason was warming up. A target set-up, where Stephanie was tossing knives at bulls-eyes. And more. 

Bouncy ooh’ed and ah’ed appropriately and Clark had to lift his jaw off the floor so he wouldn’t look like such a country bumpkin. 

The Waynes were quite famous in their interests. It was an easy article for any journalist, which meant there were dozens of articles about things like Dick’s gymnastic ability and Cassandra dancing ballet, but Clark realized that none of them did the Waynes’ interests any justice. The equipment here wasn’t shiny and new for show, but well-worn and used. Clearly everyone knew what they were doing. These were not just ‘hobbies’ for many of them. (Clark watched Stephanie make bullseye after bullseye with several different knives, a dagger, an axe, and even what looked like a functioning Batarang from the Injustice game.)

What was most surprising was the plethora of old styled workout equipment. Ropes and tires, and what looked like a cross section of a giant log. And- there was Bruce. Doing pull-ups. Shirtless. Right in front of him. 

Clark looked away, but not before he memorized the sight and the image was burned into his skull. 

The kids pulled the two LPers around to show them their routines and Clark welcomed the distraction. They watched Cassandra go through a ballet routine, tried their hand at throwing knives, and even got an impromptu lesson on the trapeze with Dick. (Clark internally screamed at receiving a lesson from a Flying Grayson.) 

When Clark and Bouncy came back to earth laughing and on shaky knees, Dick nudged them with a grin, “You guys interested in a fighting lesson? Jason and Bruce are going at it right now.”

Clark followed Dick’s gaze and saw Bruce and Jason fighting on the mats. Clark willed himself not to stare at the sight of a glistening, shirtless Bruce Wayne (again). 

“Wow, they’re really going at it,” Bouncy said. “Come on, let’s take a closer look.” 

Clark obediently followed and kept watching as Jason and Bruce went at each other. 

Jason came at Bruce with a punch so fast, that Clark was surprised to see Bruce dodge it. Then Bruce went to grab Jason’s wrist- but Jason was already in motion about to slam a foot into Bruce’s side. Bruce easily smacked the kick away and then went in with his own blow. 

Clark could barely follow their movements and he didn’t know where to look. But his eyes were drawn to Bruce’s form. This close he got an eyeful of corded muscle and the hint of white scars. Something flashed in his mind, like a memory. What was it about the man that was so familiar? 

As Clark wondered, Bruce and Jason traded hits back and forth, neither of them gaining on the other as everybody cheered them on. Then- Jason did something and threw Bruce several feet to the side. 

Instead of skidding on the ground, Bruce executed a neat roll and came up lightly on the balls of his feet. 

Oh. 

Clark had seen that move before. Well,  _ S _ had seen that move before. 

And as he continued to watch, Clark realized why Bruce caught his eye and felt so familiar:

Bruce Wayne was Batman. 

Or, more accurately, Batman was based off of Bruce. It made a terrible amount of sense now that the thought was planted in Clark’s mind. Especially as he continued to watch Bruce spar, while the man was moving exactly like No Man’s Land’s hero. 

This was the reason why Clark was so drawn to the man. How hadn’t Clark noticed before? From the way Batman spoke, his intensity, the way he moved- all of that was based on Bruce.

The fight ended with no clear winner, at least not to Clark, and the LPers separated from the Waynes for the day. 

Bouncy raced through a quick shower before getting back to his computer to do more editing. He hummed, clearly in his own world and Clark was glad for small mercies. (This way the man wouldn’t see Clark having the biggest revelation of his life.) Clark shook himself, trying to clear his mind. It didn’t work. He forced himself to make a comprehensive outline for the articles that would be based on the gym trip. He made it through a few bullet points before he found himself remembering a shirtless Bruce Wayne-

He got up and took a very short, brisk, and cold shower. 

Then he laid down on his bed, pretended to use his phone, and thought about what he had just discovered. 

God, when Clark thought about it, of course Batman was based off of Bruce Wayne. So much made sense now. Many of the territory controllers were classic archetypes, but Batman had stood out as an outlier. He was an interesting character and he was one of the only heroes with a mask that hid his identity. 

And now Clark knew why. Batman was most likely purposeful parody, one that both diverted others from realizing that the hero was based on a real person, and a way for the kids to get their kicks in. (Didn’t the others mention that they had all brain-stormed things for Injustice together?) 

But now that he knew, now that he saw past the costume and flanderization of character, Clark could clearly see Bruce in Batman. 

They were so similar. And so  _ so _ many things made sense. Batman’s care for children. His sense of justice. His unrevealed backstory- 

(Clark wondered... If he pulled off Batman’s cowl, would he see Bruce staring back at him?)

Clark put a stop to that line of thought. 

Bruce being Batman, Batman being Bruce- it didn’t matter, right? The game was a game. Bruce Wayne was his own person (and not Clark’s in-game boyfriend). The two didn’t have anything to do with each other. In-game actions were separate from real life. 

With that decided, Clark managed to screw his head on straight in order to start his articles. 

\-----

Of course, knowing that Bruce wasn’t Batman and vice-versa did nothing for the feelings that sprouted in Clark’s chest. 

He can’t unsee the connection now and he followed Bruce with his eyes, taking in all the similarities. 

Thankfully, the other Legionnaires showed up and the convention started distracting Clark from the uncomfortable attraction that he was developing for the man. But even as the other Legionnaires showed up, the group ended up spending time with The Waynes, giving Clark ample time to be around Bruce. As promised, Bouncy made sure that Clark could have private time with Bruce. (And what Bouncy did, the rest of the Legion followed. Oh, he’s sure they’re giving him time to rest because they know how he hates crowds, but leaving him alone with Bruce felt very deliberate.) 

Clark often found himself in the right place at the right time to have a private moment with Bruce. Usually they talked. That night at Bruce’s manor luckily had pushed them past the small talk stage and their conversations were never boring. They weren’t like questions from fans either, or game talk with friends, but intellectual exchanges about everything from the sights in Gotham to Clark’s opinion on recent political events. 

Bruce proved to be an interesting (if a bit eccentric) conversationalist. Intelligent, witty, and worldly. 

Their conversations proved to be an oasis in his whirlwind of a schedule. With the start of the convention his days were loaded with travel, fans, and panels. There were times when he had to smile for so long and so wide that he thought his smile would crack right off his face. 

But when those times came, there was Bruce, in a private corner where Clark could take a break, drink some water, and just be himself. He could be Clark, not S, not Superman, just Clark. 

With so much time spent with the man, there was no way Clark could stop his growing attraction to Bruce. At first his attraction could have been due to his feelings for Batman, but as he grew to understand Bruce better, he found the man just as attractive if not more so. Bruce may not be as dark or grim, but he was still intense, handsome, intelligent, and  _ real _ . 

It made Clark want to- 

No, no. Clark reminded himself that this wasn’t a video game. 

There were times he forgot though, because Bruce was  _ here _ . Close enough for Clark to reach out and touch. He held himself back, but it had been so long since he had an attraction so strong. 

Thankfully, he could hold back with the convention distracting him. 

\-----

Bruce should have admitted this long ago, but he knew that Clark wasn’t the game-playing God that everyone made him out to be. Bruce knew what it was like to be put on a pedestal to be worshipped or torn down by the media and the ones who believed in their words. He should have known that “Superman” was just a man who was trying to make a career out of LPing until Zero Day had made his reputation go out of control. 

Bruce knew this intimately from their time together in-game. He knew that when the man relaxed, he wasn’t Superman, or S, but Clark, who was just playing games for fun and a job. Well, Batman knew. 

So seeing Clark have to pull on the mask of ‘Superman’ filled Bruce with dread. He hated the fact that Clark felt the need to be what everyone wanted him to be. Noticed how Clark straightened his back, always smiled, and smoothed his voice into a lower register without his midwestern drawl. 

Bruce liked the accent. It wasn’t something the game could convey and the first time he heard it in person he was charmed. 

Bruce of all people understood why the man felt compelled to be Superman. Bruce and his family knew the song and dance one had to perform in order to project a certain image, but he wished it wasn’t necessary for Clark to do it in front of him. 

Which is why when they have a moment alone Bruce did his best to give the man a chance to take off the facade. Bruce joked with him, drew him into conversation, flirted, or acted as a buffer against the rest of the world. There was a sense of accomplishment each time he managed to make Clark drop the mask; by making his accent peek through, by making him swear, or by making the man’s cheeks flush. (And the man did blush quite prettily.) 

And Bruce liked his company, sought it out even. 

Intellectually, he knew that if he liked the man’s presence in-game, then he should have liked the man in person, but he didn’t realize how intense the feelings would be. 

The man did share traits with his heroic persona; he was patient, kind, and very inviting. As a result, he was very likable. It wasn’t difficult to spend time with him. 

Even for Bruce. 

\-----

When the convention finally ended, Clark let out a sigh of relief. 

That was before he found out there was an afterparty. He let out another sigh, a tired one. God, was he tired. He was simultaneously looking forward to it and dreading it. He had to go. This was the last event of the convention and he couldn’t not go. 

The night of, Clark put on his uniform (flannel and jeans) and made sure to screw on a smile. 

The afterparty was nice. It was styled like an in-game party, but better and worse because it was real life. 

There’s a professional DJ that even Clark recognizes, a great party hall, games being played and on display, and so much free food that he’s sure there was going to be leftovers. He’s surrounded by players, industry professionals, and Wayne Industry employees and if he wanted to, he could greet them and actually start a meaningful conversation. (His C-list celebrity status meant that most everyone here will recognize him.) 

But it was also very loud and noisy, and the lack of personal space meant that he was being bumped into every three seconds. This was also never his scene to begin with (except in-game). Making his character jump around as he hung out with the Legionnaires was vastly different than a professional industry party thrown by Wayne Industries in conjunction with Toyman Games. 

Clark might have hung around the Legionnaires except most of them were networking or playing games. He was not in the mood to network (he was over it) and while normally Clark would join them in their games, ‘playing games’ here meant being on display for everyone to see while the DJ might actually throw in some commentary for good measure. 

Clark has been on display for long enough this convention. 

He made his way towards the bar. (Dry, thankfully, because that definitely would have put Clark out of his comfort zone. Thank goodness the CEO of Toyman Games, Hiro, was underage.) The trip alone took him a good twenty minutes even though he was just crossing the room. He’s stopped by no less than seven people either wanting to greet him in person, get his autograph, and/or get a selfie. 

By the end of it, all he wanted was a coke and maybe a dark corner to hide in. 

“How about you give us the case,” a familiar voice said behind him. 

It was Bruce.

And despite the fact that the man was wearing a suit (sans tie), surrounded by people in costumes or casual clothes, the man looked relaxed. In fact, the man looked downright at home, not even insecure in the fact that he had ordered a case of pop from a bar. (Clark can’t help but be a little jealous.) The bartender handed it over, no complaints. 

“Come on,” Bruce said with a tilt of his head. 

Clark followed and Bruce easily led them elsewhere, bypassing others with just a nod or a quick word. The crowd naturally parted for him, and any people that don’t, Bruce dodged them easily. Clark was only able to keep up by following on Bruce’s heels. 

They passed through the kitchen, but no one stopped them. Some of them even say ‘hello’ to Bruce and Clark figured this must be a normal thing. 

Eventually, they arrived in a small outdoor lounge. There was a sleek fireplace, comfortable chairs, and enough heat lamps to chase away the Gotham chill. 

Bruce settled right next to the chairs closest to the edge of the balcony and Clark sat in the chair next to his. Their backs were toward the fire, while they both faced the city. Bruce stared at the city, drinking in the sight. It was just another one of the things that Clark noticed, how Bruce utterly loved his city. Clark found it endearing. 

And with Bruce distracted, Clark was given the chance to quietly stare at the man’s profile. For a moment the shadows from the fire darted across Bruce’s face, shadowing the upper half. It made him look more like Batman than ever. Especially with the city lights providing light for the rest of his face. Clark hadn’t noticed that first night when they were at the manor, and hadn't yet noticed the similarities. (Had it really only been ten days ago?) 

“Is there something on my face?” Bruce asked without even looking at Clark. 

Whoops. Clark didn’t mean to get caught staring. “It’s nothing,” Clark said. He took a sip of his drink to make himself look busy. Then he frowned. 

“What am I drinking?” 

“It’s Mexican coke,” Bruce said with a sigh, “From a very specific factory that Hiro special orders from.”

Clark thought he heard of this brand before. “Don’t these go for like $20? Each?” 

“Something like that,” Bruce said. 

Bruce replied naturally, but Clark got the feeling that he was being placated. He took another sip, and damn it really was good (but maybe not more than $5 good). “This is ridiculously bougie.”

“Comes with being a millionaire,” Bruce said, his expression finally turning into a smile. 

Clark rolled his eyes at Bruce’s statement and the fact that it was Clark’s reaction to money that made Bruce smile. Bruce chuckled under his breath. 

(Clark had to hide his smile with another sip of pop. He had noticed that Bruce also shared the habit of not-smiling with Batman as well. Well, the other way around, he supposed. The both of them didn’t smile very often unless it was for show. So the rare smile that Clark managed to put on either of their faces always felt like a victory.)

To keep up the good mood, Clark turned to lighter conversation and the convention. That worked in Clark’s favor because it was easier to make Bruce smile with stories of convention antics. 

“It does get awkward when people ask if you’re single,” Bruce agreed. 

“Yeah, especially when it’s in front of a crowd of people and everyone is interested,” Clark said with a wince. He didn’t think he would get that question at one of his panels, but he did. 

“I think I heard from the grapevine that you got raucous cheers when you admitted to being single.” 

Clark tried not to flush. He did. He can’t believe he got applause, which was insane, even from his fellow Legionnaires (the traitors). “But I’ve never gotten to be the most handsome bachelor of The Person magazine, so I think you have me beat, Bruce,” Clark shot back. 

“I eagerly await the day when the kids can dethrone me,” Bruce said dryly. 

Clark snorted into his pop. 

“You shouldn’t laugh. The fame from Zero Day hasn’t faded yet and I’m sure Person’s magazine would love to put an apple-pie farm boy on its cover.”

“Don’t even joke about that…”

Clark tried to thoroughly put that conversation behind them and Bruce allowed it. The conversation steered itself away from the convention and toward other topics. Topics like Bruce’s current projects and Clark’s journalism career. 

“..I like keeping aware of my surroundings and I wanted a career that could help people. I know that mass-media can be overwhelming, but I’ve seen the good that local journalism can do and how spreading the word can help.” Clark said and snuck a look at Bruce, who was nodding seriously. 

“I think that’s an admirable goal. And you have the skills to pick out good stories,” Bruce said. 

The compliment warmed him. He knew, coming from Bruce, that it was a serious one and not an empty platitude. Clark coughed and turned the conversation elsewhere. 

“..I think it was good for me to leave Gotham,” Bruce said softly, even as he stared out into the city. “I don’t think I realized how ingrained it was in me, until I traveled around the world and found myself wanting for home.”

“Is that what Gotham is to you?” 

“Yes,” admitted Bruce. “Not just home, but a part of who I am. Even in the most beautiful or dark of places, there was nothing that could compare to my fair city.”

“You speak like Gotham’s alive, Bruce,” Clark said. 

“Gotham is alive, living in my heart and a part of me and all that,” Bruce said with a sly wink. Like it’s a joke, when Clark clearly understood it wasn’t. Clark stopped himself back looking in Metropolis’ direction. 

“Of course, Bruce.”

They finished the pop, but Bruce managed to get some of the wait staff to bring food and drinks to the balcony. It’s comfortable, even though this feels completely new to Clark. It’s not only the fact that they’re outside a party, being served, although that was something Clark’s never going to get used to. 

But there was a specialness to the atmosphere, an intimacy to the moment that they’re in, and Clark wondered when it would end. It made Clark open up, talk about topics he hasn’t before. It surprised him when he realized he started talking about his past life in Metropolis with someone who was a near stranger. (Although Bruce didn’t feel like one.) 

Clark hasn’t been this open with anybody like this for awhile. Not like this, not in person. 

(The last person he had been this open with was Batman.)

There was something about Bruce that made Clark want to throw caution to the wind and tell him everything, share everything. And.. maybe Bruce would do the same. At least he thought that Bruce would do the same- was doing the same. Maybe Clark was projecting Batman onto the man but he got the feeling that Bruce didn’t have heart-felt talks on dark balconies with just anyone...

The conversation led to them standing against the balcony. The feeling that Clark was holding back only got stronger as Bruce leaned in closer. It was unconscious on the man’s end, Bruce was too engaged with pointing out the sights that could only be admired in Gotham at night. He pointed out the different towers, the counties, the shoreline, and he had a small anecdote or a little bit of history to go with each one. 

Clark took in the stories, but mostly enjoyed the feel of Bruce’s shoulder pressed up against his and the sound of his voice talking softly in his ear. 

“There, can you see it? It’s Founder’s Harbor. The place is a health hazard right now, but we’re currently looking to restore the area. There’s been some opposition, but it’s important to the community, particularly because that’s where Gotham comes from.”

Clark squinted at the dark. The whole area was mostly abandoned according to Bruce, so there weren’t any lights that Clark could see. That part of the oceanline looked the same as the rest of it. 

“Here,” Bruce leaned across him and pointed out into the dark. “Follow my arm. See how the sealine extends out straight? If you look closely then you can only see the ocean. There’s where they first landed.”

Yes, Clark can see it now. 

But he can also feel Bruce’s breath against his ear and the way Bruce was almost wrapped around his body. Bruce was one of the few people taller than him and Clark was acutely aware of the fact now. Bruce’s form was solid and warm against his own, close to enveloping him, and he can barely focus on the sight in front of him. But he had obediently had his gaze follow the length of Bruce’s arm until his eyes were drawn to the sight of Bruce’s pale skin against the shadows of Gotham city. 

“Yes,” Clark breathed out, willing himself not to move. 

Bruce didn’t move, but kept talking, “That’s where Gotham started,” he said, passionately. “It’s only right to remember where the city first came from.” 

Then Bruce pulled away and Clark sighed. (In relief? In disappointment? He didn’t look too closely at the feelings.) 

“Although,” Bruce continued and Clark’s attention was drawn back to him, “It’s not wrong to find a new home,” and the man nodded to Metropolis. 

He wouldn’t have looked, if Bruce hadn’t been the one pointing and it was the sight of Bruce’s profile against Metropolis that is the final straw. 

Clark leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against the man’s lips. 

Bruce didn’t respond, but when he pulled back Bruce followed. 

They kiss again.

There was a clatter behind them and Clark jumped. He looked back, but no one was behind them. Hopefully, that was due to the wind or the fireplace, because he hoped that no one saw. Private moments should stay private. 

He turned back to Bruce, about to make a joke- but stopped when he saw the man’s face. 

Bruce’s expression was shuttered and he’s pulled back from Clark. There was no longer any warmth in his eyes and his body was closed off to Clark. 

Oh. 

Clark took a step back. 

“It’s getting late, I should head back to the party,” Clark said, and before he got a reply, he turned and left. 

Bruce didn’t stop him.


	12. Reaching out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: ~7.9k

_ I’m sure my readers are getting tired of all the convention articles I’ve been putting out one after another, but I can’t help myself. The convention was amazing and so much happened that I want to share it with everyone.  _

_ But I have been concentrating a lot on game news and technology (that’s to be expected when you’re in the presence of Hiro Okamura and Tim Drake-Wayne), so I thought I would write about another thing that I discovered at the convention: _

_ Gotham.  _

_ There are a lot of mixed opinions on Gotham, and certainly a lot of stereotypes, and I was no stranger to any of them when I first arrived. I was an unworldly, midwest farm-boy entering a big city and there are horror stories about what happens when my sort of people enter Gotham. Luckily, I had many Gothamites to help me tour the city and learn its ways.  _

_ And what I found, I fell in love with.  _

_ Now if you know the Gotham stereotypes (and memes), Gotham is the city that doesn’t care. There are quite a few vids and memes about how the people won’t care about what you do or what you wear and will only take notice if you’re blocking the sidewalk. Life moves on here, no matter what happens.  _

_ And while that isn’t wrong, it’s not completely true.  _

_ After visiting, I would propose a different philosophy for the city: Gotham is the city that rejects no one and accepts everyone.  _

_ While other cities might cultivate an image and a people that’s nicer than Gotham, they may also do so at the expense of others. There are a lot of cities that often reject what they find “undesirable,” but not Gotham. And it is because of this that Gotham is the home to a rich culture and people who have (in the almighty words of the internet) ‘seen everything’.  _

_ I think that is something to be admired in a city and its people.  _

_ But that is just one aspect of what makes Gotham beautiful.  _

_ There are plenty of other things to love about the city... _

_ [Excerpt from Clark Kent’s investigative journalism blog.]  _

\-----

The rest of the party was a blur. Clark’s not too sure how long he stayed after his retreat. He could have stayed until the end or maybe he left right away, he’s not sure. But he later found himself at the hotel, Bouncy by his side, the man all smiles. He flopped over onto his bed and fell asleep quickly. Clark stayed awake, wondering why Bruce rejected him. 

His brain started with reasons why, from reasonable-

Bruce wasn’t attracted to him, the man didn’t mean anything with his flirting, flirting to the man was like breathing, Bruce didn't want to flirt at a party filled with his children, it wasn’t appropriate in the setting-

To odd-

Maybe’s Clark’s breath smelled, maybe Bruce was a germaphobe, maybe Bruce wasn’t into kissing, maybe Bruce saw someone watching them-

But Clark’s brain quickly spiraled and started providing him with terrible, outlandish reasons as to why Bruce rejected him-

Maybe Bruce knew about Clark’s unlikely friendship with Lex Luthor, current CEO of LexCorp and wanted to hurt one of the man’s friends. Maybe Bruce was just seducing him as a business ploy to make sure his support stayed with Injustice. Maybe Bruce had fallen in love with Superman but Clark didn’t measure up. 

(Oof. He shouldn’t have let himself think up that one. It was a sensitive topic for him, especially after his micro-celebrity status from Zero Day.)

Clark smacked his face a couple of times trying to dispel the thoughts building up in his brain. 

He wasn’t successful, but he did manage to fall into a troubled sleep. 

\-----

When he woke up the next morning, Clark was groaning along with the other tired Legionnaires. Luckily, most of them were leaving either that night or the following morning, giving them time to recover from the truly epic party. It meant that they could throw on their clothes and spend a leisurely breakfast together in silence. 

“Guys, I’m so tired, I must have played like over one hundred 1v1 games,” Bouncy said, his eyes drooping. 

“Same. My feet are killing me. Next time, don’t let me organize a ParaPara tournament,” PhantomGrl groaned. 

The other Legionnaires grumbled their assent. Even without alcohol, all of them had partied hard and stayed up late. Clark stayed silent. No one asked where he had been during the party. On the one hand, if they asked he would have been terrified to have to explain what happened. On the other.. he’s surprised no one noticed. 

The day went on and the mood among the Legionnaires improved as they used the last day to hang out in person. It was amazing being able to finally hang out with everyone in person. 

Being able to spend time in person was very different than spending time online, and Clark often missed it back in Smallville. Sure, he had Pete and a few of the other guys, but it wasn’t the same. They couldn’t replace one another. 

Just like how Smallville couldn’t replace Metropolis. 

Clark mental gave his brain a shake. He was getting so emotional being this close to the city. 

From Bruce, to being with the Legionnaires, to being close to Metropolis, Clark was going to get emotional whiplash. 

Clark let himself get drawn into the other Legionnaire’s antics. He didn’t want to mess up the mood with his poor mental state. This was the only chance he had to be with them until- well, he didn’t know when. It could be a year until the next convention or longer. Clark forced the intrusive thoughts out of his mind. Later, he could mope all he wanted, but not now. 

But the dark thoughts festered in the back of his mind. As the hours passed (and Bruce was nowhere to be found- not to come to Clark’s side to apologize, or whisk him away to the manor, or to say goodbye) the dark thoughts grew heavier and heavier, until he thought he couldn’t hold them back anymore. 

Thank god, everyone had earlier flights than him; Clark had one of the latest flights out of the airport. He didn’t know if he could hold a smile any longer without some help. Eventually, their numbers dwindled until it was just him and Bouncy. The first ones to get in and the last ones to get out. 

Bouncy left to go grab some water and Clark could feel his smile slowly slide off his face. He tried to pull it back on when he heard Bouncy sit next to him. 

“Here,” Bouncy said, holding out a bottle of coke. “Got this for you.”

“Thanks,” Clark said, and Bouncy waved him off even as Clark tried to pay him back. (Airport prices were not cheap.) The sugar and carbonation helped a little but then he thought about the mexican cokes he shared with Bruce in the party and his face dropped then and there. 

“Clark, did something happen at the party?”

Clark jerked his head up and looked at Bouncy, wide-eyed. 

“Don’t look so surprised. People noticed when you disappeared from the party, but we figured you just didn’t want too much attention. We get it, fans can get pretty aggressive,” Bouncy said 

Clark bobbed his head along with the theory and immediately took a sip of pop to keep from talking. 

“Anyway, I just wanted to check up on you. You doing okay?” 

He should have lied, but he couldn’t do that, not to Bouncy. 

“Something happened at the party, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” Clark said. 

“That’s fine. When you’re ready, me and the Legionnaires will be here for you,” Bouncy said with a nudge to his shoulder. The accompanying smile managed to put one on Clark’s face too. There was a bubbling in Clark’s chest that he knew had nothing to do with the soda pop. 

“Thank you, Bouncy.”

And he really was thankful to have such great friends by his side. 

Oh. Now that he thought about it, there was something that Bouncy could help him with. 

“Then do you mind playing Injustice with me? I don’t think I’m quite up to playing alone,” Clark said, then waited for an answer. Would Bouncy ask why..?

“Of course, buddy,” Bouncy said with a pat to his shoulder. 

Clark smiled. He felt better not having to face the game alone. 

(Especially when his heart was still broken.)

\-----

Bruce stood on the roof, unmoving. 

He stayed there, rigid, until one of the cleaning staff arrived on the balcony. The sound of the door opening was unmistakable and he looked back to see a shocked staff member staring at him. He nodded at them before moving back inside. His thoughts were in turmoil and he wondered if he should follow Clark when he realized he was too late. The party was over and there was no one left. 

He drove back to the manor alone. 

The kids were tucked in and sleeping, which was perfectly logical. The time was one hour past the end of the party, and they were supposed to be asleep. Even Alfred was asleep at this time of day. 

But Bruce was awake. There would be no sleep for him, only a night of lying in bed replaying the past few hours over and over again in his mind. That only promised a painful night for him, so he instead changed into sweats and started working out. The manor didn’t have an expansive workout room, but it was enough. He could tire himself out, use the treadmill to clear his thoughts. 

What he ended up doing was brooding while he ran. 

Was there any way that Bruce could have changed the outcome?

He imagined different scenarios where things would have changed:

Maybe if he didn’t bring Clark somewhere private, they could have talked at the party and still enjoyed themselves. But no, he couldn't’ imagine that people would let them be alone long. Clark’s fans were persistent and there were people who would have wanted to schmooze with Bruce. In addition, Bruce was a private person. There was no way he wouldn’t have pulled Clark away eventually.

Perhaps if he hadn’t pulled Clark to the roof. They could have just stayed in the kitchen or an unused section of the building. Bruce imagined the two of them sharing drinks and snacks in an empty conference room. Despite the space, maybe they would still be next to each other, close enough that their shoulders or knees brushed. Clark would have grinned at him when he said something clever- and Bruce could imagine the same situation playing out. 

What if Bruce hadn’t tried to talk to Clark at all? 

But he knew that he would have. Would have spent the whole night looking after everyone in the party. From the kids, back to Clark, back to the kids again. Eventually, if Clark looked tired or his persona flagged, then Bruce would have pulled him away. And the same damn scenario would have happened all over again. 

There were dozens of other ways the night could have progressed and Bruce imagined each one. 

“Bruce? What are you doing running in the dark?”

Bruce blinked, then turned to the voice who was talking to him. 

It was Jason, dressed in casual workout clothes, staring at him as if Bruce had been doing something odd. The lights were on- but that must have been because Jason had flipped them on. 

“I didn’t notice,” Bruce admitted. Nor had he noticed how long he had been running. A few hours at least. He immediately turned down the speed of the treadmill, trying not to show how his legs were just on the edge of collapsing.

Jason moved up beside him to another piece of equipment. “I could use a spotter,” he said. 

Bruce felt the edge of his lips quirk up. If Jason didn’t want him here, he would have chosen a more solitary activity. “After my cool-down?” He asked, just to make sure. 

“Of course,” Jason scoffed. “Don’t want you hurting your knees, old man.”

“Don’t let Alfred hear you say that.”

With Jason there, Bruce managed to put aside his thoughts, even though they lingered in the back of his mind. But no longer did he obsess over them, because Jason was here and needed him present. They chatted about the party and by the end of the workout Bruce’s mood had lifted. 

During the shower, Bruce’s obsession caught up with him again, but afterwards he was able to ward it away by spending time at breakfast talking about the party with his family. Breakfast turned into a brainstorm session on the possible things that could happen in the next convention. Then it turned into an impromptu movie afternoon, watching superhero movies for inspiration. Which turned into dinner with all the fixings. That turned into a gaming session where they all duked it out on one of the games that had been available at the convention. They cited the need to ‘practice for the next one’. 

By the time they wound down, it was late into the night. Bruce helped to either tuck the kids in, or herd them into a bed. 

When he was finished, Bruce found himself back in his study in front of his computer. The time read 2:03am. By this time, Clark would have already been on a plane back to Smallville. Bruce had missed his chance to see him before the man left Gotham. 

He turned on his computer and loaded up Injustice. Bruce didn’t expect to see Superman (although he hoped to) but he waited around for the man, watching his own character be a hero. The whole time he wallowed in his feelings. 

\-----

The following days were busy for Bruce. There were statistics from the convention to look over and the future convention to schedule. Bruce worked diligently, grateful that there was something that could distract him from his woes. And when he didn’t have work, he had the kids to concentrate on. But the two weren’t enough to fill up his day and he ended up on Injustice more often than not. 

Clark didn’t show up very often. 

He was definitely playing. Superman was often seen doing missions and flying around his city. But the convention bolstered his popularity and it was hard to find him alone. He was doing more streams to capitalize on his popularity and sessions with others. Bruce didn’t blame him for not seeking Batman out. 

But even as the initial craze died down, Superman was never alone and never sought out Batman. 

Clark was.. avoiding him. 

Well, avoiding Batman. (Avoiding Bruce.)

Perhaps, Clark realized that the hero was based on Bruce? That was very possible. The man was certainly perceptive enough to notice the similarities. Were the similarities great enough that he didn’t even want to spend time with a man like the one who hurt him?

Or...

Did Clark figure out what Bruce had been doing in-game? (Bruce's stomach twisted itself in guilt over the thought.) It seemed unlikely, but if anyone could figure it out, it was Clark. They had met often enough in-game and in person for Clark to notice the resemblance. Could he tell that Batman was too human at times? Answered far too cleverly for an NPC?

It was improbable, but still a possibility. 

Bruce imagined what reaction Clark would have to finding out that he had looked into him, invaded his privacy, and took advantage of his trust. (Like with Jason…)

Would his face twist in disgust? Would he get angry and righteous? Would he publish an article about Bruce’s wrongdoings? 

Clark would be justified, but he hoped it wouldn’t come down to that. This game was one of the only things pulling him and his children together. If it got ruined- Bruce had carved his own gravestone by taking advantage. 

(He would step down immediately from his position. Give it over to Lucius. If Tim or Damian wanted to, they could take the position once they grew older. He could be ruining everything...) 

Even if Clark didn’t bring this up to the public, he could imagine the man disappointed in him, looking at him in disdain, thinking that Bruce hadn’t proven himself to be anything more than the rich brat that he was. (That reaction felt the most realistic. The man was so- he believed there was good in everyone. Which meant that it could be easy to disappoint him. Bruce/Batman had been on the end of that disappointment, but none of those times would match up to this betrayal.) 

Bruce hoped he didn’t ruin Injustice for the man. The game was Clark’s career and livelihood. Bruce knew how much the man loved the game. If his actions made the man stop then he was more of a monster than he thought. 

He should remove himself from the game. Not interfere with Clark’s gameplay any longer. It didn’t matter whether or not Clark knew about Bruce’s backdoor into the game, it wasn’t right to continue. 

But.. if there was a chance that Clark did want to talk to him- then Bruce would have to stay. It was decided, he wouldn’t backdoor into the game anymore, but he would keep the alert on his phone. If Clark approached him, then he would be available. 

Bruce would wait. 

\-----

Unfortunately, when he’s not busy, his dark mood overtakes him. (Should he go to the man and beg forgiveness? If it meant saving Injustice he would have, but the only way to do that and be sincere would be to go to the man’s home. Bruce can’t encroach on Clark’s home life, he just can’t. He continued to wait.)

It was impossible to put his feelings out of mind when he’s waiting for Clark to approach him, when the Legionnaires have been outputting video after video about the convention, and Clark has been outputting a significant amount of articles about his trip. 

Despite Clark’s sour experience at the end, he didn’t allow that to color his articles. He even wrote a lovely article about Gotham.

Bruce read and reread that article over and over again. There was something absolutely beautiful and bittersweet about reading Clark’s view of Gotham. (It may have put him in a noticeably strange mood.)

The kids tried to talk to him about it. 

Tried. 

Alfred didn’t give it a go yet, but Bruce supposed that he wanted the kids to try first.

Dick and Jason were the likeliest to confront him, but they had homes outside the manor, allowing Bruce to avoid their attention. Pep talks from the other kids were unusual and only done in do-or-die situations. The conversations tended to be uncomfortable for all involved so one-on-one conversations were normally avoided. Most issues were hashed out in family meetings, but without the knowledge of what the issue was, it was easy enough to side step the kids’ inquiries.

(Bruce hated doing it, but he wanted to resolve the issue with Clark first before having to talk it out.) 

He was in a strange limbo, of being confronted any moment by his kids, while Clark ignored his (Batman’s) existence. 

The limbo was broken when he’s confronted by one, Hiro Okamura. 

Not the one he thought would talk to him, but he supposed there would be a first for everything. 

When Hiro arrived, Bruce hadn’t realized what was happening. It wasn’t unusual for the young man to drop by unannounced, taking advantage of Bruce’s free time in between meetings. He would come over to talk about future projects, collaborations, anything that came to his mind. Bruce welcomed his thoughts and insights and had told him to come in at any time. 

Bruce thought it was one of those days except for once, Hiro locked the door. 

Bruce understood the implications of these actions at once. 

“..Do you want to take a seat on the couch?” Bruce asked. 

“You know, Bruce? I would love to sit for this conversation,” Hiro said before settling down. And Hiro settled. He didn’t toss himself on, but laid down so that he was facing Bruce who was sitting at his desk. 

Hiro wasn’t the type to stay still, but when he did it was either because it was more advantageous for him to stay still or because he was saving his energy for something else. 

“You know, normally I wouldn’t do this,” Hiro started, rubbing his neck, not meeting Bruce’s eyes (Bruce immediately paused his work so he could give him his full attention), “But you know, out of all of us, I think I’m the most qualified to step in.”

Hiro took a deep breath before looking at him, then flinched away. “This is so awkward,” Hiro mumbled, “How does Dick do this?”

“Everybody calls me out on serious matters, Hiro. It’s just Dick that tends to do it in front of everyone. That might have something to do with him being the eldest,” Bruce said, dryly. “I’m actually surprised that you haven’t come to me with something sooner.” 

“Yeah, well, this is the first time that I felt like I know the whole thing-” Hiro flapped his arms out wide as if to encompass what he knew, “-best.” 

Bruce nodded, absently wondering if perhaps Hiro didn’t feel like part of the family. He would have to address it later after this talk was resolved. (Plus ask his therapist on how to proceed.) Something to consider later. For now, he needed to participate in this conversation. 

Bruce informed his personal assistant to put anything that needed his attention on hold. Then he went to go sit on the smidgeon of the couch that was available to him. 

Hiro looked at him wide-eyed. 

“I’m listening, Hiro,” Bruce said and tried to look as comfortable as he could even without stable seating. 

“Oookay. Okay. Hm.” Hiro made a face. 

“Would it help if I looked away?” Bruce offered. 

“Uh, yeah. Maybe just for the start of this.”

Bruce looked away. 

“You’re sad, Bruce,” Hiro said. Then paused. 

“..Is that meant to be an insult?” 

“What? No, I meant- that ever since the party, you haven’t been happy. We can tell, all of us can tell, and we know it’s because of Clark.”

Bruce stayed silent, unwilling to confirm or deny the statement. 

“You two were great. I’ve never seen you so at ease with someone new. Everyone could see it. We approved of it, too. I mean, Clark’s like a classic farm boy who doesn’t need a city boy’s money. He’s good for you.” 

Something in Bruce curled at the words, both in pleasure and pain. It’s one thing to be attracted to Clark and be happy with him, but another for one of his kids to think that Clark’s good for him. That they approve of Clark. 

And Bruce has thrown that away. 

For good reason, because Bruce didn’t deserve Clark.

“But they don’t realize how serious, well,  _ super _ serious it is for you,” Hiro said with a sigh. “I mean, they know, but they don’t  _ know know _ .”

Bruce had heard this tone before: when Hiro was tired from the weight of his knowledge that others didn’t. 

He  _ knew _ . 

Bruce finally looked over to see Hiro staring at him curiously. 

“When?” Bruce asked. 

“From the beginning,” Hiro admitted, “Like a day after the first time it happened. I only got an alert when you actually did something, not when you were doing the set-up.” 

“Did it affect the game?” That was the last thing Bruce wanted, especially when Hiro and Tim were having so much trouble during that time. 

“No, not at all. Besides the whole ‘changing Batman’s personality thing-’ ” Bruce winced, so he did affect the game, “-But it’s not too bad. Batman’s a pretty isolated character. He doesn’t interact with the players enough for them to know about his private life and how he should act. And your first interaction was pretty much standard stuff if Batman and Superman were ever going to interact after Zero Day.”

“..You watched us?”

Hiro waved him off. “Just like, the first couple of times, no biggie. I backed off when you guys started to meet more.” 

“Ah. I see.” 

“Which is why, Bruce? I don’t know what you guys talked about, but I do know how much time you’ve spent in each other’s company. What you two had wasn’t insignificant, was it.” It wasn’t phrased like a question. Hiro already knew the answer. 

“It wasn’t insignificant,” Bruce admitted. No use lying when Hiro had evidence. 

He felt Hiro jump at that. “You should do something about it,” Hiro urged. 

“You think I should do something. Even though Clark might publish an article that could affect Injustice?” Bruce asked. 

Hiro snorted. “Uh, there are scandals every day with me and all of my creations. We’ve survived those, we can survive this one. It’s not like you’re the only one to use the feature.” 

Hiro paused. 

“We probably shouldn’t tell people that.” 

In another lifetime, Hiro would have been a mad scientist and a supervillain just like his in-game counterpart. Bruce shook his head, smiling at the thought. He stole a look to see Hiro trying to act innocent and failing. Bruce’s smile widened. 

“If you’re sure,” Bruce conceded. “So you think I should go talk to Clark?”

“Uh, yeah. I think you should fly over there right now with the company private jet and get on your knees with flowers, but what do I know?” Hiro said, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think I would get this far with this whole, ‘pep talk’ thing. I just- didn’t want to see you sad when you didn’t need to be, Bruce.”

Bruce was so lucky to have people who cared about him, and who would actually confront him about doing things to keep his happiness. How could he not take Hiro’s advice? He would give it a try. For his family and for Clark. (And if he was being selfish and honest? For himself.)

Bruce patted Hiro’s leg and said seriously, “Good pep talk, Hiro. I’m convinced.” 

Hiro immediately sat up, drawing Bruce’s gaze. His eyes were wide and he was smiling. “Yeah? I mean, I was just telling you what I think.”

“I know,” Bruce nodded. “But I appreciate you and your opinions. They’re important to me and because you know what you do, they carry a lot of weight. I should take your advice.”

Hiro’s eyes had gotten impossibly bigger with each word. “Yeah, of course, Bruce. I just wanted to help,” Hiro said, looking a little dazed.

(Bruce would have to talk to his therapist about Hiro’s reactions. He thought that he made it clear that Hiro was a part of the family, but perhaps he didn’t make it clear. He would have to figure out how to properly fix that.)

Hiro snapped out of it once Bruce offered to go get something to eat with him and they left the office. 

After their meal, Bruce had a Let’s Player to talk to. 

\-----

Clark’s day started like any other, with the exception of being asked to do some chores in town. While not an unusual task, the reason was unlike the normal ones. Apparently his Ma thought he was ‘moping about’ (which he was, but he didn’t want that pointed out to him) and needed to get out more. 

So he went out to the grocery store to pick up things he was sure that they didn’t need. It was better than writing article after article about the convention where he was forced to relive his memories of the place. Or playing Injustice and forcing himself not to interact with Batman. The rejection from Bruce was still too raw for him to start interacting with what was essentially the man’s doppelganger. Clark didn’t know what he would do if he got affection from the NPC after his disastrous attempt at wooing the real thing. 

But Clark missed Batman and not being able to interact with him was torture. Enough so that he started moping. 

Which was why he was in the corner store, staring at different brands of pickles (so many brands of local pickles) and reading their ingredients to kill time. Farm-made pickles did not have very many ingredients and he was quickly finished with the task. 

That was when he heard two of the townsfolk talking.

“Did you hear? It sounds like some sort of celebrity landed in town?” 

Clark paused, before pretending to reread the pickles. 

“They came by in a private jet and everything!” The person said excitedly, as if someone who owned a private jet coming to Smallville was reason for excitement. (It kinda was.)

“Are you sure it ain’t for the military base?” Another said, skeptically. That was the most likely reason. 

“No way, the thing was too luxurious. I hear it has plush seats and private stewardesses.”

Clark winced. That was probably an over-exaggeration, but on the off chance it wasn’t then the rumor was going to be all over Smallville by nighttime. If it wasn’t the military it might be Lex back in town. 

“Is that Luthor boy back in town?” The skeptic asked, voicing Clark’s thoughts. 

“Nope, not that kid either. That’s why everyone’s so curious. It’s someone  _ new _ .” The gossip-monger said ‘new’ like it was something scandalous. 

Clark walked away before he got sucked into the rest of their speculations. Maybe something scandalous would be a good thing though. It was nice not to be the center of gossip and he’s only gotten more attention after the convention. That was the thing about small towns, something or someone ‘new’ always created a stir. 

Clark shook his head. What was he saying? It was very unlikely for someone to be landing their private jet near Smallville. It was probably just a rumor. 

\-----

Of course, upon arriving back at home, Clark was forced to eat those words. In front of the house there was a shiny, new, very impractical SUV parked on the dirt road they called a driveway. Gosh, the car looked like it just rolled off the conveyor belt and was obviously driven here by someone not local. (Although with its Kansas license plate, it’s probably a rental from the airport.. where a private jet might have landed.)

It couldn’t be the paparazzi, could it? He was pretty sure they weren’t able to fly private jets or rent such nice cars. But if it wasn’t the media, then he hoped to God it wasn’t a fan. Clark was always careful about his whereabouts, but it wasn’t like he tried to hide who he was. Anyone determined enough could find his address, especially after the convention. 

But there wasn’t anyone on the front porch and the only way to get past Ma on the front porch was to be let in. 

Shit, he hoped they weren’t dangerous. 

And even if they weren’t, his mom was still all alone with somebody who rented a dumb car. He hoped it wasn’t someone obnoxious. She had to deal with so much, between Pa, the bills, and now Clark’s newfound celebrity status. 

Clark hurried towards the house. 

Maybe it would be someone they knew, like Lex. While he wasn’t a favorite of Ma’s, he would be better than some random stranger. 

When he got closer to the front door, he could hear the low tones of a man talking to his Ma. When she answered back, he was glad to hear she sounded curious, not angry or annoyed. 

The sight that greeted him made Clark pause in the doorway. 

“This is a video where Dick convinced Clark to play a dancing game with him,” Bruce Wayne said from the kitchen table. “My apologies, Dick happens to be very competitive.” 

On the phone Bruce was holding, a familiar song started playing. Then there was the sound of laughter. 

That day was memorable. He never was any good at rhythm games or dancing in general. He wasn’t expecting to win, and Dick had soundly trounced him. Everyone had laughed, not in a malicious way, but in a ‘what can you expect’ way, as Dick proceeded to destroy anyone who went against him. Except Damian, who they all cheered on as he managed to keep up and almost win. 

Clark had remembered smiling and laughing. Then he looked over to Bruce who had been recording and had been taken aback by the grin on the man’s face. That was the first time he had seen the man so happy and it had taken his breath away. He couldn’t help but grin back and laugh, high off the positive feelings around him. 

Clark shook his head, clearing away the memory. 

The memory didn’t at all explain why Bruce Wayne was here in his kitchen, his home, and in Smallville. Clark had been rejected. Bruce might not have said so in words, but he felt like he knew the man well enough that his actions were enough to convey his intentions. 

“I don’t think I’m cut out for dancing games, Ma,” Clark announced, coming into the kitchen. 

His Ma startled, then laughed. Bruce slowly turned his way. His gaze looked almost mournful and sad. But maybe that was Clark’s wishful thinking. 

“Well, it’s always good to try new things,” Ma said with a smile. “Speaking of, I was thinking about trying a new way to cook green beans for dinner.” 

She gave him a inquisitive look over Bruce’s head and Clark got the message. 

“Come on, Bruce. We don’t want to be in the room while Ma’s working her magic,” Clark casually said.

Bruce nodded solemnly and followed Clark out the door. Clark led them a little ways from the house so that they could lean against the tree in front. Not too far away, but far enough that if they start raising their voices, Ma wouldn’t be able to hear them very easily. And if Bruce wanted to, he could get to his car and drive away. 

For a while, neither of them spoke, walking to the tree in silence. 

Clark looked at Bruce from the corner of his eye and drank in the sight of him. In his black and navy ensemble, Bruce stood out against the earthy green and browns of the farm. And his dark navy jeans, black sweatshirt, and leather jacket were obviously expensive. 

But Bruce had dressed down to come here, Clark realized. The lack of suit, the car, he had wanted to come incognito so as to not attract attention. He had failed, but Clark appreciated the effort. It seemed like only the locals noticed and none of the media. 

The man also looked tired. Bruce always looked tired, but Clark thought he looked more pained than usual. But it only made the man more handsome-

Clark stopped that train of thought. 

Maybe he should be happy that Bruce was troubled- but it really wasn’t in Clark’s nature to be vindictive (not over something like this). 

In fact, Clark had been working on putting the man out of mind (unsuccessfully). Being rejected- was always a possibility. (Even if, at the time, Clark had thought it was a sure thing with the talking, and the soft looks, and the- ugh, he promised himself he wouldn’t dwell on it.) He had even avoided Batman in-game. While he could have been comforted by the territory hero, taking comfort from a character based off Bruce didn’t seem healthy. (The thought of being weird or disrespectful of Bruce’s choice made him squirm.) 

But how can Clark not think of the man when he had come to Smallville? To see Clark?

Hope blossomed in his chest, warm and unbidden. Clark kept looking at Bruce’s face, willing the man to speak and explain why he was here. 

They reach the tree and settle for what was sure to be a long conversation. 

“I brought you flowers,” Bruce started, his voice solemn and serious. The thought of Bruce with flowers was an interesting image in Clark’s mind. “But I ended up giving them to your mother. They’re in a vase in the kitchen now. That was poor planning on my part, I should have brought more.” 

“I- don’t need flowers,” Clark said, not knowing what else to say. “Thank you, though. I’m sure they’re lovely and Ma will probably appreciate them more.” 

Bruce looked at him as if he had said something odd. 

“You’re amazing,” Bruce said, suddenly. 

Clark instantly flushed at the words. 

“I-” Bruce brought a hand up under his chin. “It’s difficult for me to verbalize what I think about you- but. I want to tell you.”

The man glanced over to him quickly before looking away. “Would you be willing to look away while I gather my thoughts?”

“Okay,” Clark agreed. There always was an intensity to Bruce’s eyes that at times made it hard to meet his gaze, but that also meant his eyes were very honest. 

Clark looked away.

He jumped when he felt a light touch at his fingertips, before a rough hand completely enveloped his own. Bruce’s fingers slowly intertwined with Clark’s and his thumb gently rubbed against his in a reassuring manner. Clark marveled at the feel of Bruce’s many calluses and scars. 

And the touch was- intimate. Deliberate. Not to be mistaken for a casual touch. 

“I should have asked first, but can I hold your hand?” Bruce asked, voice soft. 

“Yes,” Clark said, the sound only a little more than an exhale. He squeezed the hand back. 

For a moment, all Clark could hear was his own heartbeat and the sounds of the farm. 

Then Bruce started talking:

“After Zero Day, the kids became obsessed with you. I could see why. You were a media celebrity overnight, some of them already watched your LPs, and Zero Day caused Hiro and Tim many sleepless nights.”

Clark winced. 

“..Which I realize is not your fault. But at the time, it felt like you were occupying everybody’s minds. I wasn’t.. threatened by their near-worship of you. I know where I stand with them. But I was worried about how you would influence them.

“They’re good at protecting themselves. They’re used to it, unfortunately. But I- always want to protect them if I can.

“I.. got closer to you to learn more about who you are,” Bruce admitted. 

Clark felt a flash of hurt. “Then was everything…” 

“Of course not,” Bruce interjected. Then he said it again, gentler. “Of course not.” 

“I- just wanted to admit to not having pure intentions when I approached you,” Bruce said. 

“Pure intentions,” Clark can’t help but repeat with a bit of a chuckle.

Bruce squeezed his hand and Clark stopped laughing at his next words. 

“Of course I’m- interested, Clark. Who wouldn’t be,” Bruce said, his voice low. 

And the way Bruce said it, so serious, so matter of fact, Clark couldn’t help but believe him. 

Bruce took an audible breath, “But the truth of the matter is- I’ve been spying on you.” 

At this proclamation, Clark couldn’t help but look at him. Bruce met his gaze, his expression troubled and his eyes sad. 

Clark had to admit that it was troubling. But it wasn't too strange after coming to meet Bruce. Bruce was exceptionally protective and tended to overthink things. And every other joke that The Wayne kids had cracked about Bruce were about his almost neurotic tendencies to know everything. (It explained why they made Batman, ‘the world’s greatest detective’.) He wouldn’t be too surprised if the man had investigated all of the Legionnaires before their invitation to the convention. 

But the act was terribly invasive. 

“How?” Clark asked. 

Bruce made a pained face. 

“You see…”

Bruce paused. 

“I’m Batman.” 

Clark was speechless. 

“Bruce,” Clark said, slowly, “I already know.” 

Bruce’s head jerked up, his surprise palpable. Was it really so surprising that Clark knew? It was obvious if people spent any time with the two. The Waynes had practically said it with their teasing that Batman was designed after Bruce. (Hell, the two characters even took their coffee the same way.) 

“Of course, Batman is designed after you. It’s very obvious once I got close to the two of you. A mask can only hide so much.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant, but- when did you figure it out?”

“At the gym.”

Bruce nodded. “Was it the batarangs?”

“No, well, not just that. It was the fact that the two of you use the exact same fighting style.” 

“Really? I mean that’s logical, but I’ve only seen him from a limited angle…”

Bruce shook his head. 

Clark wondered if Bruce had never seen his character in action before. Any instance of seeing Bruce’s/Batman’s martial arts style were telling. 

Bruce caught Clark’s confusion and he opened his mouth, stopped, then looked away. He cleared his throat. “That’s what I wanted to discuss with you. I wanted to apologize and tell you about how I wronged you. I.. would prefer it if you keep this between us, because I’m the one at fault, but- we can discuss reparations,” Bruce said, clearly agitated.

His scowl was deep and he looked troubled. Bruce was also tense, whatever was troubling him clearly weighed on him. However, he kept the hand still holding Clark’s relaxed. 

Clark felt a rising feeling of dread at how serious the conversation was. Wrongs and reparations? What did Bruce do?

“I- I wanted to know more about you, without any bias and to do that I wanted to talk to you directly,” Bruce explained. “So I used a backdoor in the game to take over the Batman NPC to do so.” 

Clark blinked. 

“Could you repeat that again?” Clark asked, wondering if he heard the man correctly. 

Bruce grimaced and began to explain again. 

“I helped design Injustice,” he said. “And one of the ways to fix bugs and check the functionality of the NPCs is to- remote into them. From there, a person can watch from the NPC’s point of view. In addition, one can also read the AI’s decision and command log, and they can also prompt the NPC to do commands as long as the command doesn’t differ too differently from the NPC’s personality. So a person could prompt the NPC to do certain actions, like confronting a player-”

“Or meeting them over and over again,” Clark finished.

“Yes.” 

“For how long?”

“Since our first meeting after Zero Day.”

‘Our’ first meeting. Those words struck a chord with Clark. 

“And you’ve been Batman.. every single time?” 

“Not every time, but a significant amount of times. In the beginning I prompted Batman to seek you out and confront you. I couldn’t always ask what I wanted due to the character’s inherent personality, but I used the chance to observe you.” 

“Observe me,” Clark repeated. 

“I realize that it’s a repugnant act that abused my power and violated the privacy you were hoping to gain from the game playing with an NPC. It also gave me an advantage when we started interacting in person. I’m.. sorry, Clark, for my deceit.”

Clark stayed silent, his mind whirling with the explanation. 

That certainly explained the NPC’s odd behavior and why Clark could interact with the territory hero in the first place when so many others didn’t. In the beginning, Clark could never find Batman without the hero finding him. The NPC would be cold one day and more attentive another. Knowing what he did now, Clark felt like he could pick out the times where Bruce was in control. The NPC had been so life-like because Bruce was behind the character...

“I hope this won’t color your impression of Injustice,” Bruce continued. “I won’t abuse my power again and if you need confirmation that this is true, Hiro can show you how he’s locked me out of the game.

“I’m not.. Proud that I might have affected the game and its reputation for my own purposes.”

But even as Bruce continued his apology, Clark's mind continued to work overtime. Just how much of Batman’s behavior was Bruce’s?

Then he thought about their first meeting at the convention. There were a few things that became clear, like how Bruce was able to anticipate and provide for Clark so easily, how he seemed at ease with Clark, and how.. he flirted with Clark and no other. 

And Clark thought about how he should have been angry and hurt by Bruce's invasive behavior… But all he could think about was how the tables had turned on him. Clark had always wondered what would happen if he revealed his identity as Henry Cavill, NPC, to his friends and now he had a taste of it. 

Clark could deal with the apologies and reparations later. Right now, the most important question was:

“Was it real?”

Clark’s question cut through the rest of Bruce’s apology. Bruce tilted his head. 

“The.. flirting and the feelings we had for each other in game. Was that.. real?” 

Bruce gave him a wry smile. 

“I am Batman,” Bruce reiterated. “What I mean by that is.. life imitates art. Even if I hadn’t been remoting into Batman, I think.. that after meeting you in person, I still would have found myself drawn to you.” 

That was as good as any confession. Because what Bruce was admitting was that everything that happened in game was real, and to Clark it had been real too. From the talking, to keeping each other company, to the small secrets exchanged between them- that was real. And suddenly, Clark knew what he wanted. 

Clark took his hand away and Bruce started withdrawing, but Clark was quick to step into the man’s personal space. 

“I’m drawn to you too,” Clark admitted. 

Bruce’s eyes widened, but he stayed still. Unnaturally so, as if he didn't want his actions to change Clark’s mind. 

But Clark didn’t think he was going to change his mind anytime soon. He was interested in Bruce’s handsome face and dark blue eyes, but also the way he cared so deeply for others. He was interested in Bruce’s investigative mind and well of knowledge. He was interested in Bruce’s life and wanted to be a part of it. 

“I’m not forgiving you right away for everything. I think we need to talk more about the consequences and how we move forward from them,” Clark said and Bruce nodded along seriously. Clark appreciated the gesture. 

“But for now.. I’d really like to kiss you,” Clark said and even before he finished, Bruce was coming closer and meeting him half-way. 

Clark’s eyes fluttered shut and he enjoyed the sweet press of their lips against each other. 

Then Clark pulled away. Bruce still had his eyes closed and he was biting his lips as if he was holding himself back. 

That was no good. After the rejection from the roof, Clark could use some reassurance that Bruce desired him. That there was no need to hold back. 

Clark said as much to him, and Bruce proceeded to take away Clark’s worries. 


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13 Summary: ~2.2k

_ XX Months Later... _

“Do you need any more help packing?” 

“No! I’m fine, Ma!” 

“Okay! Give me a holler if that changes!” 

“I will!” 

Clark looked around his room. To be honest there wasn’t much to pack. He was leaving the majority of his childhood items in the house (in boxes, so Ma could use the room for anything she wanted), and left just enough necessities for whenever he was going to come back and visit. His computer set-up was going last (he still needed to use it) and wasn’t ready to be packed yet. Anything else he would get in Metropolis. 

That and some of the guys from town were going to help lug Clark’s stuff onto the truck. There was no need for his Ma to do any heavy-lifting. 

He was looking forward to the road-trip with Bouncy, er, Chuck (they were on a real-life first name basis now). The trip would have been lonely otherwise, but now he was looking forward to it. It had been awhile since he had seen Chuck in person. 

“Clark! Don’t forget to do one last look around the house! Anything I find I’ll be selling on mebay!”

“Please don’t, Ma!” 

It wasn’t an idle threat. Even after people had eventually caught up to Clark’s level and became their own territory heroes, Superman was still as infamous as ever in Injustice. The Legionnaires had capitalized on his popularity during a charity stream by selling something of ‘Superman’s’ on mebay. It had mostly been a joke, fueled by their lack of sleep and the fact that all the money would go towards the charity. But the flannel that Clark had been wearing in the stream went up for auction- and had been bought for well over one thousand dollars. 

(Clark nearly had a heart-attack, while the others had gaped and were struck speechless. Bouncy had pulled himself together first, thanking the buyer ‘bunsofsteel88’ for their generous donation. Later, Clark had called Bruce, checking to see if it was him or his brood that had bought the flannel. Unfortunately it wasn’t.) 

Clark shuddered at the memory. The flannel had gone to a good cause, but it was still insane to him that people would pay that much money for his stuff. He better go take a walk around the house in case his Ma really did try selling something. 

Clark meandered through each room. There were good memories in this house. He had grown up here, lived here for most of his life, but also had many of his most beloved people spend time with him here. 

There was the air mattress in the closet that could be pulled out for guests. It had seen a lot of use. It had been brought out when Jimmy and John Henry visited him from Metropolis, when a group of the Legionnaires had come over, and when The Wayne family had stayed. There was also a new quilt that Alfred had helped stitch- oh, that might be something to bring with him to Metropolis. Clark packed it up before continuing his journey. 

He went through the hallway, noticing the scuffs and cuts in the floor. One of them he remembered from playing soccer indoors as a kid. There was another that was more recent from when LightningLad and CosmicBoy had been rough housing and one of their phones had hit the ground so hard it had dented the wood. 

His workroom had a whirlwind of memories: many of them about the Legionnaires, crammed into the space playing games on his computer together. 

He remembered having Alfred cook in the kitchen with Ma. The man had looked out of place with an apron with cherries on it. 

There was a doorframe on the kitchen marked not only with his own heights from infancy to adulthood, but now included marks and writing from all of The Waynes. 

Clark remembered his Pa showing him how to make a derby car in the living room. 

He walked outside and went to the barn. He smiled when he remembered how his Ma had shown Cass and Stephanie how to ride horses and how The Waynes had done gymnastics in the hayloft. 

He circled around the property and remembered running through the hedges with Pete when they were young. 

Then he came up to a tree where Bruce had pushed Clark against the bark and kissed him under the stars. 

Clark circled back into the house. 

There were a lot of memories here, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t come back and make new ones. 

Even if he was heading for Metropolis, Smallville would always be his home. 

Going to Metropolis (again) was just another chapter in his life. (Thankfully, this one wasn’t as drastic as the last one.) He would still have his continuing LP career, but he would also be in the city he grew to love, and have a new position at the Daily Planet. 

And he would be closer to Bruce. 

Everything was going to be fine. 

\-----

“Hello everyone, this is S41838! I’m here with you for our monthly PO Box Video.” 

There was a flood of greetings from the stream, some of which Clark returned. Then Clark waited for the chat to calm down a little. 

When they did, he continued. 

“This month is a little special; I’m streaming this session. Normally I record the videos and edit them down, but due to the last Legionnaire charity stream, I agreed to do a few live sessions that I have never done live before. Hence our live monthly PO box stream.” 

Clark smiled at the camera and tried not to let his nervousness show. He was a little apprehensive about this stream. Not only was it one of his last streams in Smallville, but Clark had never done a live unboxing. Live sessions were hard to control and on occasion there were things people sent that threw Clark for a loop. 

In order to mitigate any issues, Clark had kept quiet about the livestream until it was almost too late to drum up attention. When he did announce it, he did so less than 24 hours in advance, destroying any chance of having people send him something in time for the stream. That should have been enough to prevent any trolls from sending something inappropriate. 

Because of that, he hadn’t gone as far as checking what had already been sent to him. Clark wanted to make sure that his reactions were authentic. He could only hope that the things sent to him were.. normal and appropriate for all audiences. (Thankfully, people had stopped sending him inappropriate and weird items after the hype of Zero Day had died down, but every once in a while he still got a ‘surprise’.) 

“Let’s see what people have for me, shall we?” 

Clark went through the unboxing like normal, and thankfully even with an audience, it wasn’t too bad. Maybe it took longer because he interacted with the audience at the same time, often bringing items closer to the camera or even talking to the sender in chat. It wasn’t as terrible as Clark thought it would be. The PO box had provided him mostly with letters, games, books, and small knick-knacks. 

He went through each letter and package with care. The only thing he would have complained about was the fact that he had to hold back in front of the audience. In a video he could cry unabashedly at some of the intense, emotional letters that people sent and then edit it out, but in the stream he had to disguise it with a cough or a sip of water. 

(Later though, he would cry and make sure to write back to each one.) 

Then came the last package. 

Clark was very interested in this last package. After all, it was a cardboard box emblazoned with the Wayne Industries logo. It was a rather hefty box, large enough to fit three shoe boxes stacked on top of each other, but not exceptionally heavy. 

There was no indication from who it was from. It could be from Bruce, Hiro, Tim, another official Wayne Industries employee, maybe one of the Toyman Games employees, or even one of the kids snagging the boxes for their own use. It could have been anything, from a care package from Alfred to a new game system from Hiro. 

Now normally Clark would have opened the box as soon as he received it, but for every PO box video, Clark went the day of to get the letters and packages for the video. The package had arrived just in time to be picked up for this stream. And Clark had figured that the package would be a nice treat for his stream if it was something game related. 

Clark silently pulled the box toward him and the chat exploded with questions. He smiled. It was a good choice to open it last.

Clark carefully opened the box and found to his amusement that it was a box from everyone. Every nook and cranny had something tucked inside. There was a letter from Hiro asking Clark to try a new game with a sketch of a character from said game, cookies from Alfred (he was exchanging recipes with Ma), books that Damian was interested in having Clark read, and more. He showed off everything that didn’t seem too personal (or confidential), and talked warmly about the people associated with said items. 

Finally when he got to the bottom, there was another box with the Wayne Industries logo. This was big enough to hold a bulky hand-held system. But maybe a little thicker? It was rather heavy too for its size. It was a little bit of trouble opening this box, especially because he was trying to be as careful with this one as the first. When he finally got it open, out slid another box with the Wayne Industries logo. 

Clark rolled his eyes. 

This box was sleek and black with no discernible features for what was inside. All he could guess was that whatever was inside was expensive. 

Clark had to work hard to get the lid off (the thing was practically vacuum sealed) and was lucky that he wasn’t showing it off to the camera when he realized what it was. He tossed the whole thing back inside the original package while smiling at the camera. 

“Well, it looks like that’s all of the letters and packages for me today! Thanks for tuning in to my stream!” 

And he hurriedly shut off the stream, his camera, and his computer. 

Just in case. 

Because nestled in the folds of some very expensive packaging was clearly a vibrating dildo with a small note in very familiar writing:  _ for you.  _

Clark took a deep breath. 

Bruce had planned this, no doubt. Had probably off-handedly mentioned to the kids that Clark was going to do a live unboxing of his mail and the kids would have zipped off and done most of the work for him. They would have gotten the box, filled it to the brim, and had the resources to guarantee less than 24-hour shipping so that the box would arrive just in time for his unboxing stream. All Bruce had to do was slip the gift inside. 

Clark groaned, they were probably watching too. 

His theory was confirmed when he received a few concerned texts. He messaged them back saying that Bruce had sent him a prank gift. That calmed them down (no doubt, they didn’t want to know what their dad was up to) and his phone was no longer flooded with messages. 

Then he received one from Bruce. 

_Such a shame._ _Why didn’t you let anyone see your last gift?_

Oh, Bruce knew why. 

Most of the time, Clark actually found Bruce’s attention to detail and ability to plan ahead charming. It was nice having someone look over him and anticipate his needs, when it wasn’t too overbearing and Bruce was careful not to do that. (Clark had always tried taking care of everything by himself, but now he had a partner that he could accept help from.) 

Most of the time he welcomed Bruce’s attention. 

_ You know why.  _ Clark texted back with a smile. If he hadn’t caught it in time he would be more angry, but he had caught it and now he was more amused than anything.  _ Besides, you don’t want me actually using it, do you? That’s more of a gift for if I was staying in Smallville. And here I was thinking that you wanted me to move to Metropolis.  _

_ I do.  _ Bruce immediately texted back. Then added: 

_ I miss you. I highly anticipate your arrival.  _

_ Then wait patiently.  _

_ If it’s for you, I will.  _

And despite the cheesiness of the exchange, the words make Clark’s heart flutter. He’s hopeful- for the future. Moving to Metropolis, working towards being an investigative journalist, and living closer to Bruce.

His phone vibrated with another text. 

_ I love you.  _

Those words settled his heart. 

_ I love you too.  _

Clark was ready to move forward. 

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note - 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me to the end~~~! This is the longest fic I've ever written and it has been a hell of a journey. There's so much that I loved writing for this fic and so much I didn't get to address (the adoption of the rest of the children, what happened inbetween ch12 and the epilogue, and a lot more), but ultimately I'm happy for how it all came together. Let me know if anyone's interested in reading more from this universe. I didn't have the time to put together a list of all the references I put in, but feel free to leave me a question! 
> 
> Please drop a kudos or comment if you enjoyed this fic and please check out the art that this fic was inspired by! 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who made this event possible!!!


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